The Everlasting Peace
by devonshire64
Summary: When the boys agree to help Bobby on a hunt they are drawn into a dark mystery, and a cold mountain may become their final stand.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello again. This story is a throw back :) it takes place mid-season two. I'm still working on my something lost series, but this is a little something i came up with and decided to post :) enjoy. _

**THE EVERLASTING PEACE**

Chapter 1

He ran, his steps painfully slow in the unnatural snow. The weatherman had called it a freak storm, but he knew better. This storm was supernatural and had a mind of its own. The mountain seemed to know what the hunter was thinking, anticipate his every move, stopping him at every turn. There was more here than met the eye, he knew that now, and he also knew it was impossible to fight. A strong wind blew with the hunter's thoughts, pushing him down into the ever deepening snow. He had to get back to the cabin, had to get to safety. He could wait it out, wait until morning, maybe then he could hike down through the storm.

As if in response another gust of wind swept over the mountain, blowing ice and snow into the hunter's face. He dropped to his knees, pulling up his jacket against the painful onslaught of winter. But the winds continued to grow, howling in the night like a wolf howls at the moon. The storm was crying out in triumph, beating the hunter down, burring him faster than he thought possible.

Reality suddenly dawned on the hunter— he was being buried alive. He tried to push himself up but the heavy snow on his back weighted him down. He clawed frantically at the snow building around him, entombing him. He screamed out for help, but his voice died on the icy winds now forcing their way down his throat, burning his lungs. The hunter's last conscious thought was of Bobby Singer— he hoped the other hunter wouldn't sent anyone out to look for him. Because, Jefferson knew anyone who set foot on this mountain would never find their way back off.

66666666666666

"Tell me again, Sam, why we're leaving nice, warm Arizona and heading to middle of nowhere Colorado?"

"Bobby called. He said a friend of his went up to check out a hunt and hasn't been heard from since. He asked if we could look into it since we were in the area."

"We are not in the area."

"Dean." Sam gave him the eye, letting him know whining wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"Fine. What's the hunt?"

"Uh, Bobby wasn't really sure. There's a particular area out near Red Feather Lakes, a mountain called Many Thunders Mountain. People have gone missing there for years, but the number has been steadily rising."

"Maybe they're just crappy hikers, Sam."

"That's what most people thought, except there's one bit of information that sticks out. Hikers have gone missing all year round, but the few bodies found had all frozen to death."

"So, it's a mountain."

"The mountain doesn't have permafrost. In summer months there's no snow on it at all."

"I still don't think it's supernatural, Sam."

"Dean, one of Bobby's contacts thought enough of this to check it out. Jefferson isn't some run of the mill hunter, he's one of the best."

"What did he think it was?"

"Uh, he had no real solid leads. Though he thought it was most likely some kind of demon. Fits the M.O. Whenever the hikers go missing there's always weird weather patterns."

"So basically we got squat. What makes you think we're not gonna turn into popsicles?"

"I said demon, not squat. I found a exorcism that should cleanse the whole area. Plus, I've got some extra protection for us and the cabin."

"Cabin."

"There's a fully stocked cabin. Jefferson rented it and Bobby said it's paid till the end of the month."

"Why does this sound too easy to be true? And why wouldn't Jefferson have been this prepared?"

"Like I said, he wasn't exactly sure what was going on so he headed out there to do more research. He called Bobby with what he'd learned, and they both agreed it was a demon. That was five days in, and the last time Bobby heard from him."

"That's why you don't hunt alone."

"He wasn't hunting. He was gonna head back down and get more supplies, and another hunter. He was supposed to be on his way back. When Bobby didn't hear from him he called us."

"Lucky us. I'm changing my phone number."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Sam researching, Dean lost in thought. He couldn't focus on the hunt anymore, couldn't focus on anything. All he could think about, the only thing he could see was his father's body as the doctors called time of death. It wasn't real, it couldn't be— John Winchester did not die. Dean knew there was more to the story, knew something else had happened, but he just couldn't place it. The doctors called it survivor's guilt, but Dean knew they were wrong.

He had been in a coma. Hell, the doctors had even told Sam the chances of him waking up were slim. So why, then, had his healthy father dropped dead no more than twenty minutes after he had woken? Sam told him to let it go, to move on, but Dean knew he would never be able to. His family was falling away from him, slipping through his hands, and Dean was terrified he would lose Sam, too.

His brother was psychic, that much was certain, and all the other 'special kids' had either died or become murderers. But the worst part of all, was the Yellow Eyed Demon seemed to know exactly what was going on. Dean wasn't prepared to battle the Demon, and he was afraid he never would be. After all, the thing had killed both his parents and Sam's girlfriend— it was only a matter of time until it came for Sam.

"It's the next exit."

"What?" Dean asked, turning to Sam. He hadn't realized just how long he had been driving.

"Next exit."

"Oh, ok."

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, turning to face his brother. Dean looked away, knowing Sam was sporting his puppy-dog look.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been quiet is all."

"So have you."

"Dean. Look man, if you need to talk—."

"I'm fine, Sammy."

"Yeah, sure. You're all kinds of fine."

"Do we really have to do this now?"

"Then when? When you're bleeding to death? After you've run into god knows what without thinking? Ever since Dad you've been more reckless. It's like you don't care anymore."

"This exit?" Dean asked after a moment, schooling his features.

He wasn't going to rise to the bait. Sam had been trying to get him to 'talk' for the last few months about his feelings, and he didn't seem to be able to get it through his shaggy head that Dean wanted to be left alone. He didn't want to talk about what had happened to anyone— especially Sam. Dean could get through this on his own, he had to get through this on his own. He was strong, he was a Winchester. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was burden his little brother. Sam had enough to worry about, he didn't need any more weight on his shoulders.

His father's final words still echoed through Dean's head and heart every time he looked at Sam. If he didn't save him, he was going to have to kill him. Why would Dad do that to him? All his life Dean had been told one thing and one thing only, to look out for Sammy. And now, after all that, after facing down the Yellow Eyed Demon, Dean was being told to kill him. It didn't make sense and it wasn't fair. Had his dad done something? Checked out early and saved his son so he didn't have to face the reality of killing Sam? It wasn't fair, and as much as Dean wished it wasn't true, he knew otherwise. Dad wouldn't have been strong enough to kill Sammy, but what made the older man think he would be?

Dean followed Sam's occasional directions. They made their way further and further into the forest, leaving civilization behind with each sharp turn and roughly paved road. It was beautiful, Dean had to admit that. He didn't like hiking or camping, not one bit. His idea of the perfect place was a cheap motel with a strip club on one side, and a bar on the other. That being said, he did enjoy the peacefulness of the mountains— normally that is. Lately though, he preferred noise, preferred the crowd, because then he didn't have to think of the mess his life had become.

"It should be up this road." Sam pointed to one of the dirt roads ahead.

"Lovely." Dean mumbled, taking the road Sam indicated. After about ten more minutes of driving they arrived at the cabin.

Dean had to admit, it didn't look half bad. It looked fairly knew, a wrap around porch and two chimneys clearly visible. "Not half bad."

"Yeah. Used to be pretty popular place to rent."

"Used to be?"

"Well, since word got out about the disappearances people have stopped coming. I think we're the only occupied cabin up here."

"Lucky us. At least there won't be anyone out here to get in our way."

"Yeah." Sam answered tentatively, staring at the cabin.

"What?" Dean asked, knowing that look. It was the 'uh oh, I have a bad feeling look.'

"Huh, nothing."

"You look awfully worried for nothing."

"It's just. Doesn't it seem a little quiet to you?"

Dean's heart rate picked up a bit when he scanned the area around him. Sam was right, there was nothing at all. "Maybe they're all sleeping for the winter." Dean offered, as he made his way to the trunk, his hunting senses taking over. There was definitely something supernatural going on here. He grabbed the weapons bag and his bag before heading up the porch steps and waiting for his brother. Sam grabbed his own things, opening the door to their newest home.

It wasn't half bad. It was cleaner than most places they stayed, hell it even had that weird 'homey' feel. "Nice."

"Bobby said it's fully stocked, too. Plus there's a full bathroom with hot water and a second fireplace in the bedroom. The place has a generator for electricity and there's a few weeks of fuel in the shed off the back of the cabin."

"Pretty sweet." Dean scanned the room one more time before throwing his bags on the floor, dropping onto the sofa and putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Wait, there's no TV."

"Oh man, you might have to read one of those things we call books."

"Ha, ha aren't you funny all the sudden." Dean pushed off the sofa, making his way to the bedroom. There were two large beds in the room, each covered with thick quilts. Even if this job didn't turn out, at least they had better accommodation than normal.

"No internet for you though, Geek-boy." Dean smirked, coming back into the main room. Sam was already in the kitchen, moving pots and pans before filling the kettle with water and putting it on the stove.

"I know. After Bobby called I went to the library and printed off as much information as I could."

"You're such a girl."

"You'll be thanking me after whatever we're hunting tries to eat you."

"Dude, not gonna happen."

"Really, Dean? Cause that always happens."

"No it doesn't. Not always. I mean, more often than not no. Shut up." Dean finished, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door.

66666666666

Sam smirked, watching his older brother search for a comeback before retreating to the bathroom. It felt so good getting the last word sometimes. The brunette turned back to the kitchen searching the cupboards until he found the instant coffee and a couple of mugs. The place was very well stocked, there was even some chicken and beef in the freezer. They probably wouldn't touch it since neither of them had a clue how to cook, but it was a nice touch none the less. He was used to fridges full of beers and take-out containers, normal food was a welcome change.

Sam glanced back over at the bathroom, sighing when he heard the shower turn on. Dean had been avoiding him for months. He knew his brother was in a tailspin, knew he was hurting, but he couldn't get through to him. Sam still couldn't believe their dad was gone. Even when he was in hiding he was still there, still alive somewhere. He was like a legend, going from town to town, disappearing as fast as he had arrived, living forever— invincible. But if there was one thing Sam had learned in the last year and a half, if was that no one was invincible.

A few short years ago Sam thought he could leave this all behind, that simply declaring himself free would make it so. And for a while, that held true. But then came that fateful night when Dean broke back into his life— and nothing had ever been the same. He was part of some plan the Demon responsible for killing both his mother and girlfriend had cooked up. He was psychic and there were others out there just like him, most of whom had either died or become killers. His father was dead, gone after Dean was mysteriously healed. And now his older brother, the only person he had left in the world was fading away. It was all too much, his world crashing down around him— and he was powerless to stop it.

He shook his head, chasing away the memories. He couldn't focus on the past, couldn't dwell on things he couldn't change. He had to focus on what was right in front of him, on what he had control of. He wanted to help Dean, wanted to find and destroy the Demon that destroyed his family— but he couldn't. He didn't know where to start, didn't know what to do. So instead he focused on the hunt, focused on the new normal he had become strangely accustomed to. There would be time to deal with everything else later.

He made his coffee before heading to the table and pulling out his research. He knew his brother needed time alone, time to compose himself. Sam needed it, too. He knew Dean was hurting, knew the older man needed help, but Sam needed help, too. Dean had always been his rock, his big brother, his lifeline. And if Dean fell Sam knew he would go down right along with him.

Sam was already on his second cup of coffee when Dean finally emerged from the bathroom. "Did you make me coffee?" The blonde asked, poking around the counter and cabinets.

"Depends, you save me some hot water?"

Dean just shrugged, grabbing a mug and filling it with the instant coffee and hot water. Sam sighed, that answered his question. He turned back to his reading, listening as his brother rummaged through every cupboard and drawer, searching for who knew what. But that was Dean. He had to know what was around him, had to search through everything, no matter what. It was annoying as hell. Sometimes Dean was like an overgrown labrador.

"Are you looking for something in particular?"

"No." Dean answered, his mouth full.

"What are you eating?" Sam turned away from the journal. He had been reading it a lot lately.

"Cookies."

"There's cookies."

"There were. That's what you get for not looking."

"Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean smirked, grabbing two cookies and his coffee and going to the sofa. "Think that CB radio still works?" Dean asked after a few minutes, nodding toward the old radio in the corner.

"Be kind of pointless if it didn't." Sam answered absently, still reading.

"You didn't check it?"

"Dean, do you have to mess with everything in here?"

"Yup." Dean flipped on the radio, tuning the dial until the static cleared. "Breaker, breaker nine this is Ozzie."

_"Funny, Dean."_

"Bobby?"

Sam looked up then. He was surprised Bobby was on the other end, but it was better than the truckers Dean normally pissed off when he got a hold of the radios.

_"Yeah. Guess you boys made it ok."_

"Yup. We were gonna call to check in later. I was just checking to see if this thing worked."

"_Uh huh. Remember the last time, Dean. That guy still checks for you once in a while you know."_

"Killjoy."

_"Your phones won't work up there. This channel is me, you know emergency bands. Sam, if I were you I'd keep your brother away from the radio."_

"I intend to." Sam called across the room, earning the finger from Dean.

_"Be careful, Boys, Jefferson was a damn good hunter. Just— make sure you watch your backs. Over."_

"We will. See ya, Bobby." Dean lowered the volume on the radio, before turning back to the sofa. "What're you doing?"

"Researching."

"Oh. Find anything new?"

"Nothing I haven't told you."

"Oh— so still demon?"

"That's what I told you."

"Ok."

Sam eyed the back of his brother's head before turning back to his research. He knew what was coming, and he knew there wasn't going to be any way to stop it. A few minutes later he heard the tapping. Sam ignored it, focusing on his research. After a few more minutes, he heard the whistling. Again, Sam ignored him, or at least he tried to. Dean had the attention span of a gnat, and when he got bored he had the overwhelming desire to let everyone in the room know it.

"Three, four, five, six."

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam snapped, looking up from the book in front of him.

"Counting stuff. Did I interrupt you?"

Sam just raised his eyebrows, knowing Dean was annoying him on purpose. "Why don't you go check on the generator out back."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Yes."

"Fine, Samantha, have fun with your books."

Sam watched Dean's back until the door closed. He sighed, relishing the silence. He loved his brother, he really did, but Dean knew how to push his buttons.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello everyone :). thank you all so much for the great reviews!! i'm jumping into the action pretty quickly in this story. to everyone looking for a little hurt/comfort, you wont be waiting long ;). enjoy. _

**THE EVERLASTING PEACE**

Chapter 2

Dean smirked as he closed the door behind him, pulling his jacket closer when a cold breeze blew across the porch. Sam couldn't really blame him. There was no TV, no internet— nothing to do other than bug Sammy. It was a fun pastime, but not one for the faint of heart. Annoying Sammy could be bad for your health, if you couldn't handle the overgrown kid that is. It also led to long bouts of the silent treatment and a fridge full of rabbit food. But they were all things Dean was willing to deal with, because for some reason he found great amusement in bugging the hell out of his little brother.

"Holy shit." Dean grunted, falling forward. "What the—." He looked back at his leg, surprised to see a lone root wrapped around the toe of his boot. "Freaking nature." Dean mumbled, pushing himself to his feet and making his way to the back of the house.

The generator was inside a large box, shielding it from the elements. Dean pulled off the lid, checking the fuel before going to the shed next to the house. He topped off the gas, staring up at the sky as he did so. He had checked the weather before they came up and he didn't remember it saying anything about snow. But now he wasn't so sure. The sky had a weird whitish-grey color and the air was turning colder by the minute. Something was definitely coming. He shivered, putting the gas away and shutting the shed. It was getting dark and he wanted to eat before heading out on the hunt.

Dean stopped by the car, pulling out both he and Sam's heavier jackets, gloves and hats. He was really missing Arizona at that moment, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to refuse Bobby when the mechanic asked for help. It just so happened that Sam answered the phone, so Dean had free reign to torment him about the cold. After all, it was Sammy who had said yes to this hunt. It was good being the oldest.

"Way to get us involved in a hunt with snow." Dean chided when he entered the cabin.

"It's not gonna snow." Sam answered absently, still engrossed in his research. Dean didn't understand how the kid could spend hour after hour reading. He would have gone stir crazy by now.

"Yeah? Look outside."

"What are you, a weatherman now?"

"Dude, it feels like snow."

"Your trick knee acting up, old man."

"Bitch."

"Jerk. There's a radio in the closet, why don't you check the weather for yourself."

"Well maybe I'll do that."

"Good. Maybe then you'll leave me alone."

"Not likely, Sammy."

"It's Sam." Sam answered as Dean turned on the radio.

It took him several minutes, but the weather station finally came through. _"Looks like another clear night for the Red Feather Lakes region, but temperatures are dropping. Bundle up if you decide to go outside. Temps in the mountains will be even lower, with dangerous wind chills. I'd advise everyone to stay home by the fire if possible."_

"See, no snow."

"Smart ass. I'm just telling you what I saw from being outside."

"If it snows I'll buy you beer for a week."

Dean turned to his brother, matching eyes with him. "Are you sure you're rich enough to take on that bet, little brother?"

"Don't have to be, since I know I'm right."

"Oh, bring it on." Dean accepted his little brother's challenge, messing up the younger man's hair as he walked into the kitchen. Sam just grunted, giving him the 'look' before flattening his hair. Dean rummaged through the cupboards for a minute before pulling out a few cans. "Beans and mac and cheese. Plus I saw some hot dogs in the fridge."

"That sounds like a well balanced meal."

"All the food groups."

"How do you figure that?"

"Hot dogs are some kind of meat. Beans are veggies or something like that. Pasta is a grain and cheese is dairy."

"That's stretching it, even for you."

"You want dinner or not?"

"Fine. Just don't microwave the hotdogs, I hate that."

"Then you make the hotdogs, princess."

"Alright." Sam rubbed his eyes, finally pushing away from his research. Dean handed him a beer before turning back and pulling what he needed out of the fridge.

For having annoyed each other for the better part of two days Dean and Sam worked quietly and efficiently in the kitchen. They talked about the hunt, and the fact that Sam hadn't found anything new. Dean was starting to get an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but he wasn't about to tell Sam that. It was more than the random root tripping him outside— the whole place just had an uneasy feel about it. He had been hoping Sam would pull something out of the research Jefferson and Bobby had missed. Unfortunately all three had come up with the same thing— basically nothing. Demon was kind of an 'everything else has been ruled out' answer, and it didn't sit well with Dean.

"I think we should head out in an hour or so." Dean stated as he and Sam ate dinner.

"What's the rush? Why don't we just wait till tomorrow morning."

"Because I wanna scout out the mountain before it snows."

"Dean, it's not gonna snow."

"Says you. Remember, I was the one outside."

"Aren't you tired?"

"Nope."

"Dean—."

"I'm not saying hunt the thing or exorcise the area. I'm just saying take a look at what's actually around us."

"I think it would be safer in the daylight."

"It's still light out. We've got another couple hours."

"I just—."

"Just what? Wanna research more? Find ten different ways to read the same information?"

"Fine. But no getting thrown into trees."

"Dude, I do not get thrown into trees."

"All the time, Dean. And if it's not a tree then its a headstone, or some other big rock, or a wall."

"You're over exaggerating."

"Yeah well, don't come crying to me when you have a concussion."

6666666666

Dean pulled his jacked tighter, shining his flashlight at his watch before grumbling. It was nearing midnight. He had been scouring the stupid mountain for nearly six hours and all he's managed to find was each and every one of mother nature's most annoying creatures. Training told him the hunt was a bust and he probably would have taken Sam and left had it not been for one glaring fact— Jefferson Thompson had gone missing here. He was a good hunter, hell he was a top notch hunter, he wouldn't have gone missing in a place like this. Sure the terrain was rocky and steep and the forest was dense, but it still wasn't that difficult to hike here.

As if on cue a gust of wind swept down the mountain, blasting Dean and knocking him back a few steps. Dean righted himself quickly, shaking off the cold wind. Small snowflakes had begun to fall and while none of it was actually sticking to the ground he still considered his bet against Sam won. Dean looked at his watch again, an uneasy feeling settling itself in the pit of his stomach. He and his brother had split up when they left the cabin, both hoping they could get their search done before the sun went down. How they ended up staying out for six hours Dean had no clue. Every time he thought about turning back to the cabin something caught his eye, drawing him deeper into the forest, further away from the cabin. He had radioed his younger brother several times, making sure Sam was ok. And while Sam insisted he was alright Dean could tell by the tone of the younger man's voice that he was experiencing the same weird sightings.

Dean took a few steps back in the direction of the cabin. His body was frozen, and he was tired. He and Sam had been out in the winter weather for far too long. "Hey, Sammy?" Dean clicked the radio.

_"It's Sam."_

"I think we should pack it in, Samantha."

_"Same here. I'm heading back to the cabin now. I think we're pretty far, though. How about we meet up by that outcropping where the path split."_

"Sounds good. By the way, you owe me a week of beer."

_"This isn't snow, it's flurries."_

"Flurries? Wow, you are a girl."

_"Jerk."_

"Bitch." Dean smirked, clipping the radio on his belt. He took one more look up the dark mountain before turning down the path and back toward the cabin.

An instant later another even stronger gust of wind pushed him backward, back toward the mountain. Dean stumbled, the gale pushing him back into the trunk of a tree so hard he saw stars. He blinked a few times, shaking away the darkness which was creeping into his vision. He was not about to get his ass kicked on a nature hike. He also wasn't gonna give Sam the satisfaction of being right— it wasn't like he got thrown into something on _every_ hunt. Only a couple.

He pushed away from the tree, squaring his shoulders. "That all you got?" Dean shouted to the empty forest around him. An instant later the wind stopped. "Hm, I guess so. Stupid nature."

Dean smirked, bringing a hand up to the back of his head. Whatever attacked him had really done a number on him. The collar of his jacket along with his short hair was coated in blood. "Son of a bitch." Dean mumbled, taking another step away from the tree.

A sudden rush of vertigo hit him. He leaned his hand back, closing his eyes as the dizziness continued. It took him a split second to realize the tree was further away than he thought. "Shit."

Dean tried to regain his balance but it was too late. He tumbled past the tree and down a steep hill he didn't even know was there. He did his best to cover his head on the way down but upon landing he realized that was about to be the least of his problems. He screaming out as pain ripped through his body, threatening to tear him apart. He thought of yelling out for Sam, but the darkness was closing in too fast to make much sense of anything. He blinked a few times, staring up into the moonless night, trying to stay awake. But it was no use. A few short minutes later Dean was lost to the darkness of both the mountain and his own mind.

6666666666666

Sam slowly made his way back to the meeting point, scanning the forest for anything out of the ordinary. But just as Dean had predicted, there was nothing. It was beyond frustrating. He knew people went missing here— hell a seasoned hunter had gone missing. Add to it the fact that the few bodies found had frozen to death, even in the summer months, meant something was definitely going on here. Something just felt off. He couldn't quite place it, but his gut told him there was more to the story than a demon. But what, he just couldn't figure out. There was no record of settlers or native american tribes having settled here, on the contrary, they seemed to steer clear of it at all costs. But other than the string of frozen deaths there was no violence here. All that information ruled out both angry spirit and curse, and the M.O didn't fit skin-walker, black dog or wendigo. So then, what the hell was going on?

Sam pushed his hands deep into his pockets when a cold wind blew down the mountain. It was March and the air was still brisk. The skies still threatened of snow, and while there were a few flurries he didn't buy Dean's prediction of an all out storm. Besides, there was nothing but clear skies and cold weather predicted for the rest of the week. Sam felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand when a strong wind blew at him, pushing him back a few steps. Stray ice pellets and snow stung his face as he righted himself, taking care not to lose his balance on the rocky terrain. This wasn't right.

Sam jumped when he heard Dean's voice in his pocket.

_"Hey, Sammy?"_

"It's Sam." Sam answered automatically, though he was happy to hear his brother's voice. He didn't like splitting up. They had gone separate directions in order to get their recon done faster, but that didn't seem to help. They had both been out there for nearly six hours, chasing shadows, and Sam knew it was time they turned around.

_"I think we should pack it in, Samantha."_

"Same here. I'm heading back to the cabin now. I think we're pretty far, though. How about we meet up by that outcropping where the path split." Sam sighed in relief, glad he and Dean were on the same page.

_"Sounds good. By the way, you own me a week of beer."_

"This isn't snow, it's flurries."

_ "Flurries? Wow, you are a girl."_

"Jerk."

_ "Bitch."_

Sam just shook his head, pocketing the walkie talkie before turning back to the trail. He pulled his jacket closer when another strong, cold wind blew across the mountain, nearly knocking him off his feet. He pulled out his gun, though he didn't know how much help it would be. Something was going on, and all he wanted to do was get back to the relative safety of the cabin.

A second later his heart nearly stopped when an ear piercing scream broke through the quiet night. "Dean!" Sam called back, running toward the scream, his heart pounding in his chest. This was bad, this was so beyond bad. Dean didn't scream, he didn't call out in pain. He was Dean, he didn't normally break. It was something that both annoyed and comforted the younger man.

"Dean!" Sam yelled again as he ran. "Where the hell are you?"

Sam ran for what seemed like forever. He searched every shadow, behind every tree, but he couldn't find his brother. He had no idea how far Dean had gone after they split up and Sam vowed that after this hunt he was going to put a homing device on the older man. He was just about to call out for his brother again when something caught his eye. He ran forward, his heart racing when he saw Dean's flashlight at the base of a tree.

"Dean?" Sam called out, looking around the area. He followed a few broken branches, just barely catching himself before he tumbled down a hidden hill. He shined his light forward, his stomach dropping when he finally found Dean. "Oh god."

Sam slid down the hill, scraping his knees and arms along the way. But all he could focus on was his brother. Dean was pale white, sweat covering his skin even though the air was cold. But what terrified Sam the most was Dean's right leg— or what he could see of it that is. Dean had fallen down the hill and in true Winchester fashion had landed right in a rusty old bear trap.

"Oh god, Dean?" Sam slid to his knees beside his brother, checking for a pulse. It was there, fast but there. He then proceeded to check for injuries. Blood was still seeping out of a nasty gash on the back of his head and Sam was pretty sure Dean had a concussion, again. He moved down his brother's neck, chest and arms, letting out a sigh of relief when he found little more than a few bruises and scratches. He was just about to move to Dean's mangled right leg when he heard a soft moan.

"Dean?"

"Here." Dean mumbled, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Do you know where 'here' is?"

"Stupid mountain."

"Good. At least your brain isn't scrambled anymore than usual. By the way, I won."

"Won what?"

"You got thrown into something on yet another hunt."

"Bitch." Dean moved before Sam had the chance to stop him. "Holy shit." Dean bit out, a strangled cry escaping his lips.

"Don't move."

"Thanks for the warning." Dean growled, sweat breaking out across his brow as he tried to breathe through the pain. "What the hell, Sammy?"

"You fell. And in true Dean fashion you landed in a bear trap."

"Get it off."

"Dean, I don't know how bad—."

"Get it off. Please, Sammy, get it off me."

"Alright. Ok. Give me a minute, I'm gonna find something to pry it open."

Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder before moving off into the forest. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain his brother was in. Based on the angle of his leg Sam knew it was broken. Add blood loss and a concussion to it and they were definitely in bad shape. He needed to get Dean off the mountain and fast, but he knew they were a good couple miles from both the cabin and the car. "Stupid mountain." Sam breathed. After a few more minutes of searching he found a branch large enough to pry open the steel trap.

"Hey, Dean, you still with me?" Sam checked as he put the stick down by the trap and removed his jacket and outer shirt. He threw he jacket back on over his t-shirt when a sharp gust of wind blew past him. Apparently nature wasn't through with them yet. He set the shirt by the trap, knowing Dean would be bleeding heavily once he removed the trap.

"Depends on where you are." Dean answered weakly, slowly opening his eyes.

Sam shook his head, pulling off his backpack and searching for the first aid kit. He found it, setting it down by the trap with his other supplies. He pulled out the emergency blanket, wrapping it around his brother when Dean started to shiver violently. Great, shock was already setting in.

Once he was sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around Dean he moved to the trap. He took a deep breath, gently prodding the bloody wound, trying to see how deep the teeth had gone. This was bad, very, very bad. The trap was around his lower leg and ankle, Dean's boot having taken a lot of the blow. Sam let out a breath, thanking god for small favors. Any higher up and the trap would have done irreversible damage.

Sam repositioned Dean's leg as gently as he could. He looked up when he heard his brother gasp. Dean was beyond pale, his arm covering his eyes, breathing as easy as he could make it given the circumstances. This was hospital bad and Sam knew it. Taking a deep breath himself Sam placed the stick between the teeth of the trap, knowing they only had one shot at this. He took a deep breath, planting his feet before pushing forward. Dean screamed out as the clamp came apart with a sickening sucking sound. Sam wanted to vomit, but he knew if he lost his grip the trap would close again, destroying his brother's leg in the process. He pushed harder, leaning toward the trap, using every ounce of strength he had to keep it open.

"Dean, move your leg." Sam ground out. He knew he was asking a lot of his brother, but he also knew Dean could handle it. He was strong, stronger than anyone else Sam knew.

With a gut wrenching cry of pain Dean lifted his bloody and broken leg up and out of the trap. The second Sam was sure he was clear he let the stick go. The trap snapped closed an instant later, breaking the branch as if it was nothing more than a twig. Sam quickly moved to Dean's side, ignoring the mangled branch and trap as he wrapped his brother's bleeding leg in the shirt. He knew he had to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but he didn't want to make the break any worse than it already was. He tied the shirt as tight as he dared, watching as Dean's blood quickly soaked through the fabric.

"Dean, you still with me?"

"Unfortunately."

"I'm gonna have to splint your leg before I can move you."

"I know." Dean breathed, his arm still covering his face.

"Do you need a minute?"

"Yes, but I'd rather just get it over with."

"Alright. The bleeding slowed a little, at least that's good." Sam lied, trying to convince not only his brother but himself that this wasn't as bad as it truly was.

"Yeah, Sammy."

Sam took a deep breath, checking his makeshift bandage before searching the area for what he needed. He found two more large branches and laid them by the first aid kit. He pulled several long strips from what had once been a shirt out of the kit along with a few packets of gauze. Dean said he was getting OCD with the first aid kit, but having the extra fabric had come in handy on more than one occasion— including now. He wrapped the extra gauze around Dean's bleeding leg. He left the shirt, he needed every ounce of material he could get to both stabilize the leg and stop the massive amount of blood his brother was losing.

Sam set up the splint as quickly as possible. The temperature had been slowly dropping through the night and he didn't want to have to worry about hypothermia along with everything else. Dean barely made a sound as Sam tightened the splint, grunting a few times but hiding the real pain. Sam knew he was doing it for him, and while the young hunter knew he wouldn't be able to tie the split if his brother cried out in pain, he still hated the barrier Dean was hiding behind. Ever since the accident Dean had been different, more closed off and more reckless than normal— and it was starting to scare Sam. He couldn't lose his brother, that was something he knew he would never be able to survive.

"Alright, done."

"Thank god."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Think you can walk?"

"Yeah. Just give me a minute, don't wanna puke on you."

"You're too kind. Here." Sam kneeled next to Dean, gently lifting him so he could take some pills. Sam turned him to the side a second later when all colored drained from Dean's face. He held him still as his brother emptied his stomach, his entire body shaking. After a few more dry heaves Dean leaned back against Sam's chest.

"Maybe I need more than a minute."

"The car's back by the cabin. It's just a couple miles, I'll run back and get help."

"No. No."

"Dean, I'll be fine."

"No. Don't go alone."

"Dean."

"No, Sam. I'm fine, I'm ready." Dean tried to push himself up, failing miserably. Sam just shook his head as he slung his backpack over his shoulders.

"Ready?" Sam asked, grabbing Dean under his arms.

"Yeah."

"Alright. Up we go." Sam pulled Dean to his feet, holding tight when the older man began to sway. "You sure you're up for this, Dean?"

"Yeah— yeah." Dean was breathing heavily.

Sam just nodded, shifting Dean's weight so he was supporting his brother's entire right side. Slowly he turned toward the cabin, hoping they would be able to get there before morning. He didn't know how long his brother could keep up the charade that he was fine. They needed a hospital now, but Sam knew at the moment that wouldn't be an option.

"You need a hospital." Sam began, the quiet too much for him.

"Yeah, cabin has a radio."

Sam's heart skipped a beat at his brother's quiet words. For Dean to admit he needed a hospital things had to be worse than Sam thought. "Dean—."

"You got about twenty minutes before I fall on my face."

"Alright, ok." Sam strengthened his grip on Dean, picking up his speed a little as they followed the trail back to the cabin and the car. He just needed to get Dean to the Impala, he just needed to get him off the mountain and everything would be fine.

Sam cursed a few minutes later when the light snow which had been falling began to gain in intensity. He looked up at the sky, praying for things to go their way just once. But the longer they walked the more Sam's trepidation grew. Something was happening, and he couldn't shake the feeling that this entire hunt was about to go from bad to worse.


	3. Chapter 3

_First things first, i've VERY sorry about the long wait. work and real life have been taking up nearly all of my time. Thank you all so much for the great reviews :). i'll hopefully post a little faster. Enjoy. _

**THE EVERLASTING PEACE**

Chapter 3

The hike back to the cabin took longer than Sam had anticipated. It was becoming increasingly clear that his brother needed a hospital desperately. Sam was carrying almost all of the older man's weight and that in itself was no easy task. Add to it the ever growing wind and he was being to doubt they would ever make it to safety. Twice the wind had been strong enough to knock them down and each incident had caused Dean to nearly pass out. Something supernatural was definitely going on, but Sam's only priority at that moment was Dean. After he was sure his brother was safe he would figure out what they were actually up against.

Sam nearly cried out in relief when the cabin finally came into view. He pulled Dean's arm over his shoulder a bit more, taking on the rest of his brother's weight as he quickened his pace. Dean's response was little more than a muffled grunt. He had been getting steadily weaker the longer they walked, and Sam could feel the heat radiating from his brother's body even though Dean was shivering. Hell, Sam was amazed Dean had made it as far as he had. Just a few more meters and they would be at the car and on their way to the hospital.

"Almost there, Dean."

"Good, Sammy, tired."

"I know, just a little further."

"Can I rest inside, just for a couple minutes?"

"No. You can rest in the car."

"Car's cold."

"It won't be for long."

"No hospital."

"Yeah, right. Besides, you agreed earlier."

"Wasn't thinking straight." Dean breathed as Sam leaned him against the side of the car. It took some juggling but the younger Winchester managed to get the door open and his brother inside without too much trouble. Sam ran around to the driver's side, sliding in and turning the key. His heart nearly stopped when instead of hearing the familiar rumble of the engine he was met with silence.

"What'd you do to my baby?"

"Nothing. I just turned the key."

"Freaking mountain messing with a man's car." Dean growled, though in his weakened state it didn't house the normal threat.

"Maybe it's the cold." Sam said more to himself, trying the key again.

"No. It's the stupid mountain." Dean pushed open the passenger door before Sam could stop him. The older man fell from the car, crying out when his body hit the cold, hard ground.

"Dean—." Sam was out of the car in an instant. "Hey, man, just breathe. Breathe through it."

"I'm not in labor." Dean bit out a moment later, though he was breathing like Sam was instructing. "Stupid mountain tripped me before dinner, now it's messing with my car."

Sam's heart was beating fiercely as he pulled his brother up to stand, his mind going a mile a minute. Dean wasn't making any sense and Sam didn't know if it was because of the concussion, blood loss, growing fever or shock. Hell, it was a miracle Dean was even standing let alone walking and talking. They needed a hospital fast.

"Tripped you?" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice light. He needed to keep talking, both to keep Dean awake and to keep himself from freaking out.

"Root wrapped around the toe of my boot."

"Maybe you're just clumsy."

"Root wasn't there before that."

"You searched the entire yard for roots before you went to check the generator?"

"Bitch. I'm gonna have so much fun when I get to say, told you so."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"I'll get my day. Besides, I was right before and now you owe me beer."

"It's not snowing, Dean. Snowing is when it sticks to the ground and messes with traffic. This is like ice mist."

"Ice mist? I thought I was the one with the concussion."

Sam just shook his head, making his way up the steps with his very heavy brother. His arms and legs were burning after the long hike through the woods and he almost lost his balance going up the steep porch steps. Every inch of his body was protesting, but he knew he couldn't falter now. Help was too far away, and he needed to treat Dean the best he could, then radio for help and get the hell off the mountain. Sam looked skyward as he pushed open the door— he just prayed whatever happened to Jefferson wasn't about to claim them as well. He pulled Dean over to the sofa, his brother's left leg barely supporting himself let alone moving. He dropped Dean down to the sofa as gently as he could, watching as the older man sank back into the cushions somewhat bonelessly.

It was the first time he had gotten a real good look at his brother and yeah, they were screwed. Dean was ghostly pale, a fine sheet of sweat covering every inch of his body. His head wound had thankfully stopped bleeding, but his leg— that was another story. The makeshift bandage was completely soaked through, staining the wraps which held the split on a deep crimson red. Add to it all the fact that Dean was shivering uncontrollably and they were in serious trouble.

Sam pulled off his own jacket, draping it over Dean before moving to the fireplace. He set up the fire as quickly as possible, knowing he needed to warm the cabin up quickly. The temperature outside had been steadily dropping all night and Sam knew it had to be near freezing by now. Once he got the fire going, which thankfully took less time than he had thought, he went to retrieve the larger first aid kit from the bathroom. He was thankful the cabin was fully stocked, and by a hunter no less. God forbid they got stuck there for any length of time they at least had enough supplies to make it through. At least Sam hoped they did. There was still the radio, but Sam knew any help was a long way off. His first priority was Dean's injuries. He would call for help once he knew his brother was stable.

"Dean?" Sam asked coming back into the room. He had grabbed a few blankets and extra pillows from the hall closet. "Dean?"

"Yeah." Dean answered weakly.

"How're you feeling?"

Dean just shot him a look before covering his eyes again.

"Yeah, dumb question."

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna need to check your leg again."

"I know."

"Here's a couple pain killers. You think you can keep a little water down?"

"I think so. Maybe. World's not as upside-downy as it was before."

Sam looked at his brother long and hard, his heart rate growing with each passing moment. "Let me see your eyes."

"They're green, what's so special about them."

"Dean."

"The light. It hurts, Sammy."

"I can turn off the lights for a minute. Just the fireplace."

"You already know what you're gonna find, but sure." Dean answered, defeated.

Sam got up, clicking off the overhead lights, the warm glow of the fireplace casting an eerie calm over the room. "There."

Dean moved his arm, blinking a few time as he stared at the ceiling. "Trippy."

"Yeah." Sam answered absently, checking his brother's eyes. Just as he had suspected Dean's pupils were uneven.

"Concussion." Dean said quietly, dropping his arm back over his eyes when Sam moved from the sofa.

"Yup."

"I could have told you that. I've had enough to know."

"Yeah. Maybe you should think about ducking the next time a baddie tries to take a swipe at you."

"Uh huh. Hindsight, I get it."

"It's not hindsight, Dean, you already know what's gonna happen."

"I already have a headache, Sammy."

"You ready for the pills?"

"Yeah. Hey, Sammy, could you leave the lights off?"

"I'm gonna have to check your leg first."

"Ok. But after?"

"Yeah, I'll turn the lights out after."

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean sighed, pulling his arm away from his face.

He let Sam help him sit up and drink, before falling back against the pillow behind him, completely spent. Sam tried to remain calm, knowing his brother was in seriously bad shape if he one; asked for something and, two; accepted help. Sam glanced over at the CB radio as he pulled the blankets back up around his brother's shoulders. He needed to call for help, but he had to get the bleeding under control first. Sam patted Dean's shoulder before going to the fire. The pills would take a few minutes to work, though he knew they would do little to help with the pain. But something was better than nothing.

He moved into the kitchen, filling a pot of water and placing it on one of the burners. He returned to Dean, his older brother breathing slowly. It was now or never. Sam carefully removed the splint, taking care not to jostle Dean's leg too much. Slowly he unwrapped the outer bandage and blood soaked shirt, gently peeling it away from the dried blood and ragged wound. This was so, so, so worse than bad. Sam took a deep breath before grabbing a pair of scissors from the first aid kit and cutting away what was left of Dean's pant leg. After several long minutes and a few muffled cries from his brother, Dean's leg was visible, and it was a mess.

"Dean, I'm gonna get your boot off now."

"Yeah." Dean breathed, his voice hoarse.

Sam took that as an 'I'm ready' and began unlacing Dean's boot. He worked as quickly and as gently as he could, doing his best not to move his brother's leg as he worked off the boot. Once finished he cut the sock away and finally got a good look at the entire wound. He took several deep breaths, pushing himself to his feet and retrieving the water he left in the kitchen to warm. He found a large plastic bucket in one of the cupboard before going to the closet and grabbing some of the older looking towels.

"That bad, huh?" Dean asked quietly, his eyes still covered.

"No, Dean, it's not that bad." Sam answered calmly, organizing the first aid kit, water and towels beside the sofa.

"Quiet and calm. Must be really bad."

"I just told you it's not that bad." Sam said, his voice rising. He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to control himself. He needed to remain calm, flipping out now wouldn't help anyone.

"It's ok, Sammy."

"No, Dean, it's not." Sam answered after a moment, dipping one of the towels in the warm water. He draped it over his brother's leg, getting a strangled curse in response.

"Jeez, Sammy."

"I have to clean it. That bear trap was old, who knows what was on it. Do you want an infection, too?"

"I was thinking about it. Rounding out the picture. Concussion, broken leg, fever. Whole nine yards."

"You're not funny."

"I'm a little funny. You're not gonna try and reset it, are you?"

"No, it's a leg not a finger. Besides, there's an air splint in the first aid kit. That should be good until we get to a hospital."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Yeah." Sam answered absently, methodically cleaning the wound. He looked back at Dean every few minutes, his heart sinking with every moan and shutter his older brother made. This was beyond his experience, but there was nothing he could do about it. They were miles away from help and Dean was getting closer and closer to full blown shock. He needed to get the wound taken care of, and then he needed to get his brother warm.

He worked as quickly as he could. He pulled out the suture kit, beginning what he knew was going to be a long and grueling task. The wound was long and deep. Sam wiped away the blood as he worked, counting the stitches as he went. It wasn't all that relaxing, but it kept his mind off how bad the situation really was. It took well over an hour but Sam finally had the entire wound cleaned and stitched. He wrapped the wound in a fresh bandage before pulling out the air splint. He slid the splint over his brother's leg, inflating it as Dean gasped.

"Sorry. I'll give you something more for the pain in a few minutes."

"It's ok. I'm fine."

Sam took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He couldn't flip out, not now. He had to at least wait until Dean was better before he kicked his ass. "Dean—."

"Not fine, fine, Sammy. Just fine that I don't need any more pain killers. Don't want them."

"It'll help."

"Don't wanna be knocked out."

"You'll feel better."

"No I won't. I'll be knocked out."

"Splitting hairs."

"Says you. Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you turn off the lights now?"

"Yeah, no problem." Sam got up, switching off the light. The room was once again bathed in the haunting glow of the fire.

He looked back over at his brother as the adrenaline which had been fueling him began to wane. Sam ran a hand down his tired face as he surveyed the other hunter. Dean was still covering his face, breathing slowly, his body shaking. Sam pulled the blankets up around him, tucking them in firmly before moving to the large fireplace and adding a few more logs. It was comfortable in the cabin despite the cold night, but the brunette knew that meant little to his brother. Dean was slipping into shock, and he needed to stop it, fast.

Sam lifted Dean's legs gently, apologizing when Dean gasped out in pain, a tremor ripping through his body when Sam tucked a few pillows beneath his legs. His next step was to check his brother's vitals. Dean's skin was damp and clammy, his pulse rapid, but weaker than Sam knew it should have been. He was already moving into the second stage of shock. Sam rubbed his hands on his jeans, knowing he needed to do something fast.

He got up, half walking, half running to the kitchen. Dean had lost too much blood, and his body was beginning to shut down. Sam couldn't replace his blood volume, not at the moment, so he needed to boost his electrolytes. He pulled open the cabinets haphazardly, searching for anything to give his brother. He cried out in relief when he saw a small canister of gatorade mix. He grabbed it, filling a glass as he checked to make sure the energy drink mix was really there.

Sam looked skyward, thinking god for the little bit of luck. He mixed in a spoon full of gatorade, making his way back to Dean quickly. "Hey, Dean." Sam began softly, shaking his brother a little when he didn't answer.

"Hmm." Dean moaned, not moving.

"Dean, I need you to drink something."

"Not thirsty."

"Doesn't matter."

"No thanks. Drank too much last night anyway, Sammy." Dean mumbled. He sounded far away, and Sam couldn't help the panic growing in his chest.

"Dean, you didn't drink last night. We're up at the cabin, helping Bobby. Remember?"

"Uh, yeah. Cabin."

"Come on, Dean, just drink a little."

"Sleepy."

"No sleeping. You fell, do you remember? You hit your head and hurt your leg."

"In the Yogi motel."

"Yogi motel?" Sam asked, his eyes drifting between the radio and the drink.

"Yeah. Bug trap called a roach motel. Bear trap's a Yogi motel."

Sam smiled despite himself. Dean could still think clearly, or as clearly as he ever thought. "Yup, in the Yogi motel. Come on, Dean, I'll help you sit up."

"For what?"

"So you can drink."

"You better be force feeding me liquor." Dean groaned, finally pulling his arm away from his face. He looked even more terrible now that Sam could see his face. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks flushed even though he was shaking. Sam felt his brother's forehead, heat radiating off him, a fever obviously growing. He then felt Dean's arm, his heart hammering in his chest when he found it cool. Infection was setting in, but the shock seemed to be taking Dean faster.

"Next best thing." Sam answered after a moment. He knelt next to the sofa, wrapping his arm around Dean, helping him sit up high enough to drink. Sam's fears grew tenfold when Dean didn't even try to grasp the glass himself, letting Sam do all the work. Dean took a few sips shaking his head, weakly pushing the glass away.

"Wrong one."

"What?"

"Wrong one."

"Wrong one what, Dean?" Sam tried to keep his voice calm, even as his brother slowly lost his senses.

"That's orange. Nasty. I like the red flavor."

Sam slouched forward, shaking at his brother's words. He had to agree, the orange gatorade was not the best.

"You ok, Sammy?"

Dean's voice made Sam look up. He had been resting his head on the older man's arm, adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion and fear. "Yeah." Sam chocked out, tucking the blankets back around Dean.

"You sure? Don't seem ok."

"You scared me, that's all."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Just please try to make more sense. I thought your brains were getting scrambled."

"Not yet. Fire's nice, though."

"Yeah."

"There's something on the mountain, Sammy. Or something about the mountain."

"Something I missed, I know."

"Something everyone missed, not just you."

"I'm gonna call Bobby, get some help up here." Sam said more to himself than Dean.

"Yeah," Dean breathed, weakly wrestling his right arm out of the blankets. Sam took a step forward when he saw his brother reach for the glass. "I got it." Dean started before Sam made it more than a step. He managed to get the glass and take a few sips, holding onto the glass instead of putting it back on the floor.

Sam just shook his head, turning back to the radio. He clicked it on, raising the volume before tuning it into the frequency Bobby had given him. "Bobby? You there, Bobby?"

_"Sam?"_ Bobby's voice crackled through the radio. Sam let out a breath he didn't even know he's been holding. He didn't know what he would have done had he not been able to reach help. Dean didn't have time to wait.

"Thank god, Bobby."

_"What's wrong, Sam? I didn't think I'd be hearing from you so soon."_

"We went out on recon. We separated, I don't know exactly what happened but Dean fell. It's bad, Bobby." Sam's voice was shaking.

_"How bad?"_

"He fell into an old bear trap. He's got a concussion and his right leg's a mess. He's going into shock, too."

_ "Shit, Sam. You have— other band— heli—."_

Sam's heart was racing faster than he ever thought possible. The blood was rushing in his ears like a flooded river, drowning out all sound. Bobby's voice was slowly being replaced by static. "Not now." Sam breathed, tuning the radio a bit before calling back to the mechanic. "Bobby, you're breaking up."

_"Sam— call— you hav— hear me?"_

"Bobby? Damn it."Sam gave up on his old friend, turning the radio to the emergency bands instead. "Hello?" Sam began, his stomach dropping when he was met over and over again with static.

"Not gonna work, Sammy." Dean's stated weakly over the static filling the room.

"We can't stay here, Dean." Sam ground out, his back to his brother. They needed help now, not later— his brother didn't have a lot of time. He couldn't sit there and watch Dean fade away, not after everything else they'd been through. Sam hadn't been able to help Jessica or his father, and he wasn't about to make the same mistake with Dean.

"What about the car?"

Sam turned, eyeing his brother, his body shaking. "The car doesn't work. Do you remember? We tried that first."

"Right, sorry. Been spacing a little lately."

Sam just nodded, even though he knew Dean wasn't watching him. He had to do something, had to get help somehow. He paced the cabin, his body shaking as the reality of what they were facing was coming down upon him like a ton of bricks. Dean was slipping further and further into shock, his body unable to compensate for the amount of blood he'd lost. On top of all that, there was also the added strain of a broken leg, infection and concussion.

Sam rubbed his hands on his jeans, pacing the cabin. He had to think of something, he had to do something and fast. He lapped the kitchen a few times, his heartbeat growing faster by the minute, full blown panic slowly setting in.

"I'm going for help." He blurted out, turning to the door. He had to fix this, he had to fix Dean. He couldn't lose his brother, that wasn't an option. He walked to the door quickly, his long legs carrying him across the room with lightening speed. He was sliding on his jacket, his hand on the doorknob when he heard a strangled cry behind him. Sam turned to see Dean laying face down on the floor, panting.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam breathed, dropping to his knees at his brother's side. "What do you think you're doing?" Sam pulled Dean up against him, supporting the older man as they moved to the couch.

"Not without me."

"What?"

"You're not leaving, not without me."

"Dean, you're hurt."

"I'm ok."

"No you're not. You're not even ok by Dean Winchester standards."

"You can't leave. Don't go without me."

"The car isn't working, Dean. There's a ranger station about eight miles from here. I can get there in a few hours. You can't walk that far."

Dean squared his shoulders, scowling— though it lacked the usual intimidation. Before Sam could stop him he pushed himself off the sofa, pitching forward an instant later. Sam caught him easily, supporting him, though Dean was still struggling to stand on his own. "I'm ok. I can go with you."

"Dean—."

"No." Dean's voice was strong, far stronger than Sam had been expecting. "I won't let you, Sammy. I won't let you walk out there alone."

"Why?"

"Because you won't come back."

"Dean, I'll—."

"You won't come back."

Sam didn't know what to say. He had told Dean the truth in Chicago, when they were done hunting the Demon, he would be done hunting all together. In Dean's mind that was leaving him, even though Sam didn't see it that way. But he wasn't going to leave him tonight. He'd never turn his back on him when he was in need.

"Stupid mountain." Dean spoke again before Sam could answer.

Realization suddenly dawned on the younger man. All Dean was thinking about was the hunt, nothing more. Sam felt guilty. Here Dean was worried about him getting hurt by whatever it was they were hunting, and Sam was thinking about the future, about a time when moments like this wouldn't happen. Of course they'll happen, Sam scolded himself, kneeling beside Dean, he just wouldn't know about them.

"I'll be fine."

"Like Jefferson? What'll I do if you die, Sammy?"

"I won't. You'll be ok."

"I'll never be ok." Dean whispered, his eyes losing their focus.

"Dean, man."

"Demon's gonna get you. Then what'll I do." Dean groaned, leaning his head against Sam's shoulder.

"Dean, the Demon's not gonna get me. I'm not going anywhere. Dean?" Sam pulled his brother forward, his heart skipping a beat when Dean's head lolled to the side. "Shit. Dean, you gotta stay awake, ok? Wake up." Sam checked his pulse, his stomach dropping when he found it, faster and threadier than it should have been. "You gotta wake up, you gotta stay with me."

Sam laid Dean back against the pillows, re-situating him on the sofa. His skin was clammy and pale, his heart racing even though he was unconscious. "Come on, Dean, stay with me."

"You stay, too." Dean breathed, his eyes still closed. Sam tucked the blankets around the blonde when he began to shiver violently. "Freezing in here."

"Yeah, yeah it is." Sam stood, letting out a long breath. Dean was awake for the moment, but he was fading faster than Sam had originally anticipated. The brunette threw a few more logs on the fire, the wood crackling as a wave of warm air swept across the room.

"Dad'll be here, soon. It'll be ok, Sammy."

Sam's heart broke at his brother's quiet words. Their dad would never come back. He was gone, beyond their reach, and Sam never thought it would be such a hard reality to face. His dad was always there, just beyond eyesight, always in the next town over. He was invincible, unstoppable— he was John Winchester. And now, against all the odds, he was dead.

"Yeah, Dean. Soon. I'll get you something more to drink."

"No more orange."

"It's all there is."

"Orange sucks."

"I know. Think you can keep some food down?"

"Not hungry."

"You need to build your strength back up, get your blood pressure back up. I gave blood once at college, they gave me cookies and orange juice after to help."

"There's seriously a time when cookies are good for you?"

"Apparently."

"Hell, Sammy, I'd do anything for a cookie."

"How about stay on the couch and not getting up anymore."

"Had to, you were in trouble."

"No I wasn't."

"You would have been if you went outside. No snow boots."

"Dean, it's not snowing."

"I'm gonna say I told you so." Dean chided, gasping when Sam helped him sit up. Dean took a few small sips of the gatorade before turning to the cookie. He took a small bit, chewing slowly, almost as though he was willing his body to comply and let him eat cookies. After a few minutes and no throwing up Dean ate the rest of the treat. Sam held his brother up as the older man finished the gatorade slowly, the trembling in his body lessening some.

"Feel any better?"

"Shock not so much, but the cookie was good."

"Good. At least you can keep that down. We'll try more later." Sam eased Dean back against the pillows before going to the kitchen. He got himself a cup of coffee and a cookie before turning to his research— there had to be something he missed. "So, Dean, any ideas?"

"Ideas about what?"

"What we could be hunting." Sam needed to keep Dean awake, and without the benefit of a television this was all he had.

"Don't care, I'm tired."

"No sleeping."

"Boring geek talk will make me sleepier."

"Says you. Come on, Dean, any ideas?"

"Stupid mountain."

"Yeah, stupid mountain." Sam sighed. He picked up the book he was reading and his coffee before moving to the sofa. He gabbed an extra pillow, propping it behind him as he leaned against the couch, his shoulders brushing Dean's arm. They would make it through this, they had to make it through this. He wasn't going to let his brother die on some cold forgotten mountain. It just wasn't gonna happen.


	4. Chapter 4

_sorry to all for the very long wait. real life was super busy and i had horrible writer's block with this story. thank you all so much for the great reviews. enjoy :)_

**THE EVERLASTING PEACE**

Chapter 4

Dean was having a hard time figuring out what was real and what wasn't. One minute the room was completely normal and the next it was all tie-dyed and droopy and weird. And Sammy, that was a whole other story. He went from making sense, to making weird noises— Dean even swore the kid was getting shorter and taller just to screw with him. That wasn't the strange part, though. No, the strange part was that underneath all the weirdness there was a constant humming. It was almost like someone was singing, and even though Dean scanned as much of the room as he could he couldn't find the culprit. It wasn't that the humming was bad, it was actually very calming, but it made him sleepy and every time he got sleepy Sammy yelled at him. And Dean was really getting tired of being yelled at right about now.

He knew he had a concussion, that part was pretty straight forward. But he'd had concussions before, and this wasn't like anything else he'd ever experienced. Sam told him it was because he was in shock, too, and Dean was too tired to think about it one way or the other. All he knew was that, at that moment, the world was really weird. But hell, Sam's magic cure was cookies, and Dean wasn't about to argue with that. How could you go wrong with cookies.

Dean blinked several times, trying to pull himself away from the singing. He focused instead on the shaped the firelight was making on the ceiling. He needed to stay in the moment, he couldn't let his mind wander. The last time he had tried to drift off Sam almost left him, and he wasn't about to let that happen again. No, he had to stay sharp, had to stay focused, if he wanted to keep his brother around. Dean knew there was something on the mountain, or something about the mountain, and he didn't want it getting Sam. They never should have taken this stupid hunt.

"You still with me, Dean?" Sam asked softly, pulling Dean's mind away from the firelight.

"Present." Dean mumbled. He didn't have the energy to speak, not at the moment.

"Dean, I really need to get help." Sam sounded anxious, and that was never a good thing.

Dean closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It had been a few hours since Sam had gotten the bright idea to leave, at least Dean thought it had been a few hours, and the blonde had been hoping his brother wouldn't bring up that stupid idea again. Not only were they still on the stupid mountain, it was gonna snow outside, and his brother wasn't dressed for that kind of weather.

"No snow boots." Dean sighed, too tired to say much else. The singing was back, stronger than before, and it was making him sleepier by the minute.

"Dean, it's not snowing."

"Says you. Stay inside."

"Dean, the radio's not working."

"Bobby knows we're here. And he knows something's wrong. We'll be ok."

"We'll be ok? Are you serious. Have you seen yourself, Dean?"

"No. But since seeing myself would require my eyes popping out of my head I guess that's a good thing."

"You know what I mean."

"Been banged up before. I'll be ok." Dean could hear his brother scoff before starting to pace. The blonde kept his eyes closed, listening to Sam stalk around the room. It was comforting having Sam with him again, especially after the past few years. When his family was together they had hunted together, but Sam's leaving splintered them. A few months after the brunette left for school John had left on his own hunts, leaving Dean on the road alone. It was hard. The only thing he ever wanted was his family, and it was the one thing fate wouldn't let him have.

But then Sam had come back, even it if was against his will, and Dean thought everything would be better. He'd never been so wrong. Their father still refused to return from his quest for the Yellow Eyed Demon. Even when their paths did cross again, it ended with his hero's death. Everything in Dean's life was falling apart, shattering into pieces, and he didn't know how much longer he could stand against the tide. Maybe he should just give up, just drift away. Hell, everyone else had. It was easier to disappear, easier to fade away than fight, easier to fall into the darkness.

"Dean? Dean?"

"What?" Dean mumbled, still feeling the warm pull of the nothingness he was so eager to give himself to.

"Open your eyes."

"Lights—."

"They're off."

"Sammy."

"Open your eyes, Dean."

"Don't wanna. Feel tired."

"Open you're god damn eyes." Sam shouted, shaking him. That got Dean's attention. Slowly he opened his eyes, surprised by how long that simple act took him. The room was still bathed in the glow of the fire but another soft, grey light was making its way into the room.

"Why's the sun coming up?"

"Because it's almost morning."

"Huh? Not yet."

"It's later than you think."

"Earlier."

"Yeah, earlier, whatever."

"Why're you so bitchy?"

"Why am I so—." Sam took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. Uh oh, Dean thought, this was what happened right before a Sammy lecture. "I don't know, Dean. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my brother's dying right in front of me and he doesn't seem to care."

"I'm not dying."

"Yeah, Dean, you are." Sam's voice broke, the sorrow in it sending chills down Dean's spine. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow, calming breath. He knew what it was like to be alone, and he didn't want to do that to Sammy.

"I care. Just tired. I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" Sam asked, a few stray tears running down his face.

"Yeah, promise. So, find anything?" Dean asked after a moment, knowing he needed to get Sam on a different subject matter.

"Not really. I did find one little thing, though. The number of missing hikers started to spike right around the time these cabins were built. Before that the land was way more rugged, you needed a back country permit to hike it."

"So, less hikers less people missing. Cabins built, more hikers, more hikers missing. It isn't really brain surgery, Sam."

"That's why I said it wasn't much. I don't think this is a demon, though."

"Why not?"

"A demon would show itself. They're arrogant. This thing, it seemed almost like it _is_ the mountain, not just something on it."

"So the stupid mountain is after us."

"Yeah, the stupid mountain is after us. You think you can drink something?"

Dean swallowed, closing his eyes again. He was tired, beyond tired, and all he wanted to do was drift off to sleep. His head was killing him, and his leg had moved beyond pain to an overwhelming numbness. The last thing he wanted to do was put anything in his already rebelling stomach. The cookie had been good, but it had also been enough. "Nah, I'm good."

"You gotta stay hydrated."

"I know. Just don't wanna push it. Haven't barfed yet, but feel like I'm gonna."

"Alright, let me know."

"K, Sammy. Sam?"

"Yeah."

"If you want me to stay awake you should turn off the sleepy radio music."

"What are you talking about?"

"The music."

"Dean, there's no music."

"I can hear it, Sammy." Dean opened his eyes, searching the room for his brother. Sam was right, this wasn't a demon, but whatever it was was just as bad, if not worse.

"What's it sound like?" Sam kneeled next to the sofa, pulling a pad and pen toward him from a pile.

"Like soft humming."

"And words?"

"No, just the humming. Like someone's trying to put me to sleep. Is this cabin safe, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Jefferson set up the barrier."

"Jefferson who's now missing Jefferson. Not really a lot of faith in him at the moment."

"I checked it over myself. I added a few more things, too. We're protected against demons, ghosts, hell even Wendigos."

"Ok. Wanna make sure you're safe."

"That I'm safe?"

"If something gets in I'm not gonna be that much help."

"Don't worry. It's covered. Whatever's up here isn't gonna get in."

666666666

Sam paced the room, glancing at his battered brother, his heart beating faster with each step he took. There was more going on there than he had originally thought, something he wasn't seeing— and Dean held the clue. He said he heard singing, and lullaby, but Sam didn't hear anything. Something more had happened to his brother on that mountain, almost like something had singled him out. And Sam needed to know what.

It wasn't a demon, wendigo, shape-shifter or black dog— the singing ruled that out. It could still be a spirit or a nymph of some king but Sam had been unable to find conclusive evidence to support either theory. It was something else, he knew it in his bones, he just couldn't figure out what. What was it about that particular mountain, and why had it been silent for so long? He needed to do more research, but for that he needed to leave the cabin— and Dean.

His brother was in no condition to travel, but he wasn't in any condition to be left alone either. Sam ran a hand through his hair, he didn't know what to do anymore. He looked back over at his brother, listening to the older man's ragged breathing. Dean had his arm covering his face once more, but that didn't hide the pain at all. They needed help, and Sam prayed Bobby would send them some. But the mechanic didn't know their radio died before he had the chance to call in to the emergency services. Dean was slipping further and further into shock, and based on his flushed cheeks and bright eyes infection was setting in, too.

They needed some way to signal for help, something to show a ranger or park services they were in distress. "Dean." Sam nearly shouted, turning to his brother.

"I'm not sleeping."

"Good."

"Then why're you yelling at me?"

"When you were out in the shed was there anything other than the gasoline?"

"Like snowmobiles?"

"No. Like an emergency kit."

"Uh, maybe, I don't really know. Isn't there one in here."

"There's a first aid kit in here. I'm talking about something with flares."

"Planning on burning down the stupid forest on the stupid mountain."

"No, I'm planning on signaling the rangers. There's a tower about ten miles away, they should be able to see it."

"What about the snow?"

"Dean—."

"It was snowing last night, even though you won't admit it. It's probably still snowing now."

"Look, just, stay put, I'm gonna go check the shed." Sam pulled open the door before his brother could answer, but the second he looked outside he froze.

"Told ya." Dean's weak voice broke Sam of his trance. He couldn't believe it, there was no way it was possible. They'd come back off the mountain no more than five hours ago, but in that time feet of snow seemed to have fallen.

Sam took a couple tentative steps out the door, kicking the light snow away as he walked. It didn't look too bad, maybe the snow had just drifted to their cabin. He took another few steps out the door, cursing when he unknowingly reached the steps and fell thigh deep into the cold snow. "Son of a bitch."

"You should be a snow-o-meter." Dean snickered, smiling at Sam.

He looked up at his brother, pulling his leg from the heavy snow as he struggled back up the stairs. Dean was smiling, laughing, but all Sam could see was how sick he was. His eyes were glassy and bright, his cheeks red while the rest of his body was white. He was suffering from both shock and an infection, and the newly fallen snow was another nail in the coffin.

"Abominable Sam-man." Dean snickered again, more to himself this time, but still loud enough for Sam to hear it.

"You know you're not really helping." Sam growled, finally getting back onto the porch.

"I'm commentating."

"Like I said, not helping."

"You're just mad cause you own me beer."

"I still can't believe it snowed."

"I don't know why, since I told you five times it was gonna snow. Maybe you should learn to listen."

"Do you have any ideas? Or are you just gonna lay there and nag me?"

"There's a shovel in the closet."

"How do you know that?"

"I checked the closets when we got here. I seem to remember you yelling at me for always rooting around places. See, Sammy, what would you do without me?"

Sam looked at his brother long and hard. Dean said it out of jest, but those few words drove deep into Sam's heart. What would he do without Dean? He would crumble, that's what he would do. He had lost too much already, had buried too many loved ones— he couldn't lose his brother, it just wasn't an option.

Sam took a deep breath before answering. He couldn't let Dean know how scared he was, he had to be strong. He went over to the closet, pulling it open. Sure enough there was a snow shovel and rock salt just inside. "I'd have less headaches."

"Yeah right. You like me, I keep life interesting."

"You certainly do that."

"Admit it, you'll miss me when I'm gone."

"Dean—." Sam turned to his brother, his voice breaking. "You're not going anywhere."

"Yeah." Dean answered after a moment, his voice softer than it had been. "Yeah, I'm not."

"You promised me, Dean."

"I know. You should get those flares."

"Yeah, hopefully there are some."

"Some in the car, if not the shed."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"You didn't ask."

"They aren't with the weapons."

"I know. Flares and bullets don't really go well together. They're in a box under the driver's seat."

"Anything else hidden in the car?"

"Maybe."

"Dean—."

"You need to go get the flares, Sammy." Dean's voice was harder this time, more like he was giving an order. Sam locked eyes with the older man, his brother's gaze speaking volumes. He was fading fast and he knew it, they didn't have much time.

"Yeah, I'll get 'em. I can see the car from here, I'm gonna leave the door open, ok?"

"Sounds good."

"I'm not gonna leave, I promise. I'll just be outside the door."

"Ok."

"You're not gonna leave me either, right."

"I promised."

"Ok." Sam smiled at Dean before grabbing the shovel and heading back out onto the porch.

He didn't have far to go, the car being about twenty feet from the door, but after only a few minutes of digging Sam was already out of breath. The snow was easily three feet deep, maybe even more in some places, it was unbelievable. This was more than a spirit, but what the brunette didn't know. "It's a stupid mountain." he mumbled under his breath as he dug.

It took about ten minutes just to get down the stairs, another five to get ten feet down the path, and he was exhausted. Sam pushed the shovel into the snow in front of him, standing to stretch his back and check on Dean. He could see his brother through the door, the older man's feverish eyes watching his every move. Sam sighed, even sick and hurt he was still watching his back, still trying to protect him. A sudden ruffling made Sam break contact. He looked up at the roof, his heart skipping a beat when he saw a lone bird perched there.

"What the hell?" Sam asked, staring at the raven, which seemed to be staring back. A second later a large pile of snow broke free, sliding across the roof and down onto the ground, completely covering the path he had just dug. He looked back at the door when he heard his brother snicker.

"Glad you're having fun."

"Dude, this mountain hates you."

"Not as much as it hates you." Sam was about to turn back to the car when the bird suddenly took off. The raven circled the cabin for a moment before swooping so close it made Sam duck. It then landed on the porch, right in front of the open door, and it stared.

"Dean?" Sam called, fighting his way back up the snow covered steps.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice shook, which only made Sam move faster. "Sam?"

"I'm coming."

"Sammy?"

"I'm coming, Dean, I'm almost there. Dean?" Sam finally made it up the stairs, his heart racing as he stumbled onto the porch. The raven spun, cawed once and took off, circling the cabin once more before disappearing up the mountain. "Dean?"

Sam fell to his knees by the couch, his heart hammering in his chest. Dean was pale, too pale. "Dean?" Sam pressed his shacking hands to his brother's neck, letting out a breath when he felt a pulse. It was weak and thready, but it was there. "Come on, Dean, wake up." Sam shook his brother lightly, his anxiety increasing ten fold when Dean didn't wake.

"Damn it." The bird had done something to him, Sam was sure of it, but what he didn't know. All he knew was they needed help, and they needed it now. He ran back out of the cabin, fighting his way through the heavy snow until he reached the Impala. He cursed, the snow so high he couldn't get the doors open. Something on the mountain wanted them dead, sooner rather than later.

Sam knelt in the snow, shoveling mounds of it away from the door with his bare hands. And as fate would have it, the minute he started working on the car the snow began to fall again, harder than the brunette had ever seen it. It was piling up around him faster than he could dig, the white powder blinding him. He could feel it in each breath he took, like a river of ice flowing into his lungs, chocking him. But still he dug. If he didn't fight Dean would die, that fact was certain. So if he was gonna go down, he was gonna go down fighting.

After when felt like an eternity he finally got the door free. The winds began to increase as he pulled the heavy door open. The mountain was fighting back, and it was winning. Sam wondered if this was what happened to Jefferson and the other hunters. He pushed his way into the car, cursing when the door slammed against him, the hit so hard the young man thought it broke something. But he didn't care. He wasn't about to let Dean die because he wasn't strong enough, he promised.

Sam cried out in relief when his hand found the box. He quickly pulled it out from under the seat, the winds increasing again as he loaded the flare. He knew he would only have one shot. He turned back out of the car, coughing as the snow drowned him. He covered his face with one arm, pointing the gun in the air and firing. He tried to stand, but the snow around him was too deep. He pushed it away, but it just seemed to fall faster. He hoped someone would see the flare and help would come in time for Dean. With his last bit of energy Sam pulled himself up into the Impala, the door slamming behind him and the snow continued its onslaught. They never should have taken this hunt.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello Everyone. Sorry about the long wait, it's been a busy summer for me. Thank you all once again for the great reviews :) enjoy. _

**THE EVERLASTING PEACE**

Chapter 5

Dean watched as Sam shoveled the snow. He loved being right. Besides, he was the big brother, he was supposed to be right all the time. He knew it was gonna snow, he didn't know how he knew, he just knew. Dean blinked a few times, focusing again on his brother as his mind began to wander. Every time he lost focus he began to drift, and he could feel the darkness pulling at him every time he closed his eyes. He had to force himself to stay in the moment, he had promised Sam. The problem with that promise, was Dean didn't know how much longer he could hold on. He knew there were flares in the car, he just hoped someone would not only see them, but get to the cabin in time to help.

What worried Dean more, though, was the fact that there was definitely something supernatural on the mountain. And if he was gone, what would happen to Sam. Dean could still hear the humming— distant, but there. He tried pushing it to the back of his mind, but it was something he couldn't seem to fight. It was almost like the voice was coming from within his own mind, something he couldn't shut off no matter how much he tried. It didn't say anything specific, not in actual words at least, but Dean knew it wanted him, and his brother. And Dean knew he couldn't let that happen.

Ever since their father died the responsibility of keeping Sam safe weighed on Dean even more. He needed to look after his brother, Dad had said so. The blonde could still hear his father's voice, as though the man was still standing beside him. He told Dean he might have to kill Sammy, what the hell was with that? Hadn't he already sacrificed enough, hadn't he already given enough? How could Dad even think to give him that order, that ultimatum. Sam was his brother, Dean would die for him, but there was no way he was going to kill him. Sam wouldn't go dark side, Dean would make sure of that. Which meant he couldn't let go, he couldn't let some stupid mountain take him out of the game. He had to keep an eye on Sammy, had to keep him from turning into what everyone thought he would. And that meant he had to keep fighting.

Dean pulled in a breath when Sam stood, the brunette halfway through the path from the door to the car. He focused on his brother as the younger man turned toward him— something was wrong. Dean could feel it deep in his bones, something was coming. He locked eyes with Sam, taking comfort in the younger man's presence. The blonde hunter blinked a few times as he watched his brother, something catching his attention. There was a bird circling behind Sam, a raven, or at least Dean thought it was a raven. It kept changing, morphing from one thing to another in the blink of an eye. Dean was about to chalk it up to fever and shock when Sam's eyes went to the bird as well.

He tried to push himself up off the couch, but his body wasn't listening to him. He needed to get to Sam, he needed to save his brother, but he knew he couldn't. His leg was throbbing, his vision swimming with both blood loss and fever. He fell back against the sofa, crying out in both pain and frustration. He needed to help Sammy, something was wrong, but he couldn't. Save Sammy, that was his one goal in life, his only reason for being— but it seemed like an impossible task. He was distracted from his futile effort to stand when a large mound of snow slid off the roof, covering the path Sam had just dug. And despite the fear growing in Dean's heart, the blonde couldn't help but laugh.

"Glad you're having fun." Sam called through the open door.

"Dude, this mountain hates you."

"Not as much as it hates you." Sam turned back to his task, grabbing the shovel just as the bird came back into Dean's view. It swooped down off the roof, nearly attacking Sam before it landed in the doorway of the cabin.

The lighthearted moment vanished in an instant, terror filling Dean's soul as the raven sat in the doorway and stared. He thought it was funny when the snow had covered Sam's hard work, but now he saw it for what it really was, a barrier, a wall keeping help away. This raven, or whatever it was, it was the key to their hunt, and it was after him. It hopped forward, morphing back and forth between the bird and a large shadow.

"Dean?" He could hear his brother's breathless voice calling to him as the younger man fought against the unnatural snow.

"Sammy? Sam?" Dean yelled back, cursing the fear in his voice but unable to fight it. The singing was growing, encasing him as he stared at the creature in front of him. He could feel himself slipping away, the pain in his body growing tenfold as the bird continued to stare at him. He knew he had to fight it, knew he had to hold on long enough for Sam to get to him, but he was just so tired, the little energy he had quickly draining.

"I'm coming." Dean heard Sam's distant voice, unable to focus on anything other than the raven. He blinking, trying to stay awake, but his body was shutting down. His entire reality was the bird's blood red eyes, and an inhuman voice. Whatever was on the mountain wasn't about to let him leave. He just hoped his brother would be able to make it to safety before the mountain took him away, too.

"Sammy." Dean breathed, his last bit of consciousness leaving him as the storm outside began to grow. They never should have taken this hunt.

666666666666

The entire world was dark and heavy, suffocating. Sam tried to push against the weight, against the shadows, but his body wouldn't listen. He had to get back to Dean, he couldn't leave his brother alone. There was something on the mountain, something he hadn't been expecting— he had seen it. That bird wasn't a normal bird, it was too smart, too different. It was something supernatural and it was after his brother. Panic rose in the young hunter's heart as he continued to fight against the invisible restraints. He couldn't let go, he couldn't give up, not after everything they'd been through. He couldn't let the cold mountain win, he had to fight for his brother.

"Sam, calm down."

Sam froze, laying still for a moment as he listened. He thought he'd heard someone, he was sure of it. But there was no one there. He was alone in the Impala, buried by snow. Sam tried calling out but his voice fell silent in the heavy abyss. It was the bird, it was trying to trick him, trying to pull him away from Dean.

"Calm down, relax." The voice said again, but Sam knew it was a trap. If he stopped fighting he would be buried alive, and there would be no one to keep whatever was on the mountain away from Dean.

"Sam."

"No." Sam chocked out, fighting through the void. The supernatural world had take too much from him already— he wasn't about to let it get his brother.

"Sam! Stay still."

"No, Dean."

"They've got him."

"No. No, I can't." Who had Dean? Where was his brother?

"You're at the hospital. Sam, open your eyes and look at me."

Sam stopped struggling, his mind slowly catching up to the world around him. He thought his eyes were open. He took a deep breath, praying help had arrived, and hoping this wasn't all some trick of his mind. With more effort than he thought it should take he finally managed to get his eyes open. The room blurred in and out of focus as he slowly blinked, but he knew where he was almost instantly— hospital. "Dean?"

"Not quite."

Sam turned his head gingerly, his entire body aching. He sucked in a breath when he saw Bobby sitting beside him. "What? How?"

"You've been out for two days. You're lucky to be alive, Sam."

"I was in the car."

"The car that was under about four feet of snow. You were on your way to stage three hypothermia."

"Dean?"

Bobby looked away, rubbing his hands on his jeans. Sam's heart instantly dropped. "Bobby, what? He's not—."

"He's alive, but it's not looking good. He was unconscious when they found him. Lost a ton of blood and his infection's gone septic, plus they're trying to combat a pretty sever case of shock. We're all pretty amazed he's still here."

"Did he wake up yet?"

"A few times, but only for a couple minutes. He's not making any sense, keeps saying something about—."

"A bird?"

"A woman, actually?" Bobby gave Sam a look, but continued. "Or at least near as I can tell. He keeps says she's after you."

"Me? Dean's the one who's hurt."

"I'm just repeating what he said, Sam. Did you boys find anything?"

"There was a bird. Dean kept saying it was gonna snow, but there was nothing on the weather. We went out for recon and that's when he fell. The next morning there was feet of snow, it didn't make any sense. I was digging a path out to the car to get some flares when the snow from the roof fell into my path. There was a bird, a raven, there was something about it. It hopped in front of the door and Dean was yelling, then the snow started again. I got one flare off before I got stuck in the car."

"Why didn't you boys just drive down when he fell?"

"The car wouldn't start, which should have been our first clue. The Impala always starts. How'd they find us?"

"Flare. They knew basically where you were cause of the cabin rental. I radioed you might be in trouble, they were waiting to hear more from you. When you didn't call in they figured you were ok, but the rangers were gonna head out after the storm to make sure. Then they saw the flare. Took a while, though, storm's something for the record book."

"Is it still snowing?" Sam asked, noting the strange look on the mechanic's face.

"Everywhere, Sam. Whatever was on that mountain didn't want you boys getting off. Whole area's shut down, they're calling it the storm of the century."

"Bobby—."

"I know, Sam. I'm sorry."

"No your fault."

"I gave you the hunt. I should have researched it better."

"I should have, too. Can I see Dean?"

"Sam, I—."

"Please, Bobby, I have to see him."

"Sam, you just woke up, you're in no condition to go anywhere. You almost died."

"And Dean is dying. I have to see him. He's mixed up in all this somehow, Bobby, I need to know what he knows."

"He's not talking."

"You said he kept saying she wanted me. That's something."

"Sam, he's in ICU. He's out of it, just speaking gibberish."

"How do you know? We don't know anything about this hunt." Sam could feel his heart rate increasing with each passing moment. He couldn't believe they had taken this hunt in the first place. This was all his fault, his brother was going to die because of him. Dean didn't even want to take this hunt. He pushed his brother into going, made Dean leave their semi-vacation in Arizona. He wanted to take this hunt, because he saw it as a challenge. And now that challenge was going to cost him his brother. He needed to see him, he couldn't leave him alone.

"What's going on here?" A stern voice broke through Sam's chaotic mind. "Mr. Singer?"

"My brother." Sam asked weakly, turning to the dark haired man.

The doctor's attention immediately went to Sam. "How long as he been awake?"

"A few minutes, not too long."

"His heart rate's through the roof. Do I need to tell you again how sick this boy is Mr. Singer?"

Sam watched the doctor, his anger growing every time the man used the term 'Mr. Singer'. The young hunter didn't know what went on the two days he was unconscious, but if the doctor's attitude toward Bobby was any sign it had been rough.

"I know how to take care of the kid." Bobby growled back, though Sam noticed he was staying out of the doctor's way.

"My brother." Sam said again, more insistent this time.

"Is resting." The doctor cut in, pulling a clipboard from the end of Sam's bed.

"I need to see him."

"I'm afraid that's not possible at this moment."

"I need to see him. Please, I need to."

"Can you tell me your name?" The doctor changed the subject abruptly, scanning the clipboard.

"Sam."

"Sam what?"

Sam blinked, his heart dropping, what the hell was on their ID cards? "Sam Conover." Sam answered after a moment, his eyes going to Bobby, looking for affirmation. He couldn't remember if he and Dean had gotten them changed lately or not.

"What year is it?"

"2007"

"Birthday?"

"May 2, 1983."

"Ok, Sam." The doctor's gruff exterior softened a bit, as he sat on the side of the bed, clipboard still in hand. If Sam didn't know any better he's say the doctor looked relieved. "Do you remember what happened?"

"We were out hiking, Dean slipped, his leg ended up in an old bear trap."

"Is there any reason you didn't seek help immediately?"

Sam bristled at the question. How dare this man question his loyalty to his brother. If he could have Sam would have carried Dean off that mountain and right into the hospital. "The car wouldn't start, and the radio wasn't working right."

"Ok. Did you patch him up yourself?"

"I tried. I did the best with what we had. I knew he needed help." Sam growled, his eye burning the doctor. But the man in the white coat didn't even flinch.

"You did good work, more than likely saved his life." The doctor stated as he flipped the clipboard closed. "You need to rest, Sam, you were hurt too, and your body needs time to heal."

"But Dean."

"Will still be there, I'm not about to let him go anywhere. We've had a rough year on the mountain, a lot of lives lost, and I'm not about to lose anymore. So I'll cut you a deal, dinner's in two hours, if you stay awake that long and eat, I'll let you see your brother."

Sam stared at the man long and hard, there was something different about him. "You promise he'll still be there in two hours?"

"Yes, Sam, I promise."

"Who are you?"

"Doctor Dark-Cloud, I'm attending to both you and your brother. Now get some rest, I'll be back in a few hours."

Sam watched the man go, unable to take his eyes off the dark haired stranger. The doctor knew more than he was letting on, Sam could sense it, but what the young hunter didn't know.

"More like Doctor Dick if you ask me." Bobby grumbled, pulling Sam back out of his mind.

"A little harsh."

"You haven't spent the last two days with him. Jackass constantly telling me what I should and shouldn't do about you two. Even told me off for letting you rent the cabin in the first place."

"He doesn't seem that bad."

"He's a pompous know it all." Bobby sighed, making his way to the window. He pulled back the curtain, revealing the world beyond. Sam's heart nearly stopped. The snow was coming down so hard it looked more like an out of tune television than a window.

"What have we done, Bobby?"

"What do you mean?"

"The deaths never happened off the mountain, the snow never came this far into town."

"Maybe it's just a storm."

"Or maybe Dean and I doomed this entire town." Sam stated, Bobby turning. The two hunters locked eyes, both knowing Sam was right. Things had changed, the bad guy's M.O had changed, and Sam couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible. He just hoped he could figure out what was going on before he lost not only Dean, but the entire town of Red Feather Lakes.


	6. Chapter 6

_hello everyone. i realize it's been almost two months since i updated... sorry. i've been super busy and i got married a month ago :)! i will hopefully post faster, but not sure. one thing i can promise is that this story will get finished. no matter how long it takes i will never leave a story unfinished :) enjoy. _

**THE EVERLASTING PEACE**

Chapter 6

Dean was floating, everything and nothing around him at the same time. He knew something wasn't right, he could feel it in his bones, but he couldn't make anything out past the haze he was surrounded by. There was humming, somewhere off in the distance, but he couldn't make it out. It was soothing, calming, but he knew he couldn't succumb to it. He had to figure out what was going on, he had to find Sammy.

He fought through the haze, the memory of his brother spurring him on. He had to fight, he had to keep going, he had promised. He forced his eyes open, blinking several time. He was standing in a shapeless void, the darkness blanketing him, hiding him away. This didn't seem right, he knew it wasn't right. He was supposed to be in a cabin with Sam, trapped on a mountain. He took a few steps forward, a wave of dizziness nearly bringing him to his knees, the void around him growing darker. He pushed back against the black, knowing he couldn't let it win. He had to get to Sam, he had to tell him about the raven.

"You can't leave this place."

Dean spun when he heard the voice, his heart skipping a beat when a shape appeared behind him. It looked like a woman, but at the same time Dean knew it was the raven from the mountain. "What do you want?"

"You need to rest, Dean, you need to sleep." The woman took a step forward. Her voice was sweet, calming, comforting— like his mother's voice. She was right, he was tired, he needed to rest. Maybe just for a few minutes, maybe that would help him clear his mind.

Dean closed his eyes, the woman taking another step forward, running her hand over his face. Her skin was soft, but cold. "Just rest, Dean, just sleep."

"Sammy." Dean whispered, the darkness enveloping him as he stood.

"Shhhh, Dean, just sleep."

"No, Sam."

"Dean." Dean blinking, pushing back against the dark. He looked up at the woman standing in front of him, her fathomless eyes boring into him, looking through him. But the voice he was hearing wasn't her's.

"Sam?"

"No, Dean, rest."

"Dean, wake up."

"Sleep, Dean." The woman spoke again, her voice rising. Dean coughed, the darkness around him growing heavier, thicker. He felt like he was drowning. "Just sleep, Dean, just rest."

"Dean, stay with me." Sam's voice broke through the suffocating darkness, grounding him, calling him back. "Stay with me."

"Sleep, Dean, rest. You're so tired."

"No, no." Dean took a step back. His body felt heavy, sluggish, dead. He had to fight, he had to get back to Sam, he had promised. "Sammy."

"Dean, wake up."

"Sleep, Dean."

"Sammy." Dean took several deep breaths, forcing himself further from the woman. She flashed back to the raven, cawing loudly as the hunter continued to move back. "Sam." He called out as loud as he could. He closed his eyes, focusing on his brother, focusing on anything other than the darkness surrounding him.

He fell to his knees as he thought about his brother, as he focused on the only family he had left. He tried to breath but his lungs were suddenly frozen. The darkness came at the young hunter again, stronger this time, like an icy wind freezing him from the inside out. All he wanted to do was sleep, rest, give into the void, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't leave Sam all alone in the world, not with the Demon after him. Sam wouldn't make it, he wouldn't survive— Dean couldn't give up on him, not now.

He pushed against the darkness again, fear rising in his heart when he suddenly found himself unable to move his body. He felt heavy, his limbs not listening to his commands. He struggled to take a deep breath, but he was still being suffocated by something.

"Dean, calm down." Dean heard his brother's voice again. The blonde hunter focused on Sam, focused on the younger man's voice. He held onto the lifeline, the only thing he could make sense of in the darkness. Sam had been with him on the mountain, he had been there when the raven showed up. Sam was real, this darkness wasn't. "Dean, please. You promised."

Those final words were all Dean needed to break free of the void. He had promised Sam, and he had never broken a promise to his brother. Dean blinked slowly, the lights burning his eyes, even though he knew they were dim. This still wasn't right. They had been in a cabin in the woods— this room was different. Dean's heart skipped a beat when he found he was still unable to move, and still being suffocated. He fought back, cursing himself for being tricked by the raven. It knew to use his brother against him.

Dean tried to call out to his brother, tried to call out for any kind of help, but his voice was muffled by whatever it was which was suffocating him. He could feel tears streaming down his face as he fought, cursing himself for even taking this hunt. He hadn't researched enough, hadn't done the job right, and his brother was going to be the one to pay the price. Sam was alone, lost somewhere, and Dean was trapped by whatever was on the stupid mountain.

Just when he was about to give up all hope, to give into the humming still filling his mind, his brother's face came into view. Dean blinked several times, still fighting his own body as he stared into his brother's brown eyes. "Stay calm, Dean, I'm here, but you gotta stay calm. Get the doctor."

Doctor? Dean continued to stare at his brother, praying it had all been a bad dream. He tried to speak again, but Sam just shook his head. "You're on a vent, you can't talk."

Dean just nodded weakly, his eyes never leaving Sam's. They were alive, Sam was safe. Dean closed his eyes, relaxing into the blankets, Sam as safe. He heard something in the distance, but it didn't matter, Sam was safe. He didn't see the darkness creeping back into the room, didn't notice the humming as it grew louder. All he could think about was the fact that his brother was safe, that they were off that stupid mountain and help was there. And now he could rest.

"Dean, Dean, don't you dare." Dean was drawn back from the edge of sleep by his brother's frantic voice. The noise in the distance was growing louder, drowning out the peaceful humming which had been dulling his mind. Something was beeping, loudly and erratically, and it was annoying. "Dean, please."

Dean forced his eyes opened again, turning his head to face his brother. Sam looked horrible. He was visibly thinner, his skin a shade too pale. His eyes were rimmed with red, his tall body shaking as he gripped Dean's left hand. The blonde could hear the heart monitor growing more erratic as he watched his brother, or more importantly, the window just beyond his brother. There, sitting on the ledge, watching him, was the raven.

Dean blinked several times, hoping it was a side effect of the drugs and blood loss, but the raven remained on the windowsill, staring at him stoically. Sam turned, following his brother's gaze, stilling when he saw the raven as well. At least Dean knew he wasn't going crazy.

"I know." Sam breathed, leaning in. "That's the second time I've seen it here."

Dean just stared at his brother, unable to speak or even move. He just hoped Sam could understand him.

"I've been looking into it as much as I can. It's just—."

"Sam." Sam looked up when the doctor came over to him. "May I speak with you?"

"You can speak to both of us."

Dean closed his eyes, squeezing his brother's hand weakly. His brother was in protective mode, and Dean appreciated it more than Sam would ever know.

The doctor just nodded. Dean watched the man as he pulled up another chair, glancing quickly out the window. The blonde couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was only an instant, and had he not been trained he never would have noticed, but the doctor looked right at the raven, locking eyes with it before the animal flew away. Dean tried to signal Sam, to let him know what he just saw, but his brother seemed to have other things on his mind.

"Dean, this is Dr. Dark-Cloud."

The doctor nodded at Sam's introduction, but Dean just glared at the man. Sensing the tension, the doctor began speaking. "I've been attending to you and your brother."

Dean's eyes snapped to Sam immediately, the younger hunter looking away sheepishly. He looked over his brother, noticing for the first time that the younger man was in pajamas and a robe. What the hell was wrong with him? Last time Dean saw him he had been shoveling the walk. Had the raven done something? Had he been stuck outside? Dean closed his eyes, he should have been able to look after Sam, he shouldn't have gotten hurt and left his brother unprotected.

"I'm fine, Dean. I got stuck in the car, mild hypothermia."

"A little more than mild, but I'll let it slide." The doctor eyed Sam before turning his attention back to Dean. "Like I said before, I'm attending to both you and your brother. First, Sam is going to be fine, so I don't want that to worry you."

"See."

Dean shot his brother a glare before turning his attention back to the doctor.

"You, on the other hand—. Your injuries were quite extensive. We managed to set your leg, and you also needed a blood transfusion, but your heart rate and blood pressure have returned to normal. Unfortunately we've been unable to control the infection. You've been on antibiotics since you've been here, but we're just holding it at bay."

"Four days." Sam answered, almost as though he had read Dean's mind. "You've been out for four days, I was out for two."

Dean started shaking his head— there was no way. The bird was back outside the window, and from what Dean could see the snow was still falling fast. He took a deep breath, or at least he tried to, he had to tell Sam what he was seeing, what he knew the doctor could see, too. He lifted his arms, or at least he tried to, he had to get the vent out.

"Dean, calm down."

Dean just growled, shaking his head, he wasn't going to be pushed around. He had to keep Sam safe, he had to look out for him, and he couldn't do that from a hospital bed. Dad said he had to save Sam, or else— and Dean knew he would never be able to handle the 'or else'. He could hear the heart monitor beeping behind him, but he didn't care. He needed to be off the vent, and out of that hospital bed. They were still in the middle of the hunt and he couldn't afford to be on the sidelines.

"Dean, calm down. Please."

That got through to the hunter. He turned to his brother, the desperation in the younger man's voice taking all the fight out of him. "We can't sedate you. When I first woke up you were awake a little, but you were getting worked up, so they sedated you. And— you almost went into a coma. We didn't even know if you'd wake up. So please, stay calm, stay with me."

Dean closed his eyes, pushing away the ever present darkness. He had already made one nearly impossible promise to Sam, what was another.

66666666666

Sam rubbed his brother's arm, trying to calm him down. They couldn't put Dean to sleep again, it would kill him. Whatever was going on, it was more than the infection. This was all tied to their hunt, but Sam couldn't figure out how. His brother had fallen into an old bear trap, it should have been straightforward. But nothing was matching up, and Sam knew he had missed something. But then, there hadn't been anyone to interview, since no one had come back alive.

He shook his head, looking back out the window. It was still snowing, and that stupid bird was still sitting on the windowsill. It had turned up a few hours ago, and Sam had tried everything to get rid of it. He knew it was the same raven from the mountain, and he knew it was after his brother. He also knew he wasn't going to let that thing anywhere near Dean. He had lost too much already— Mom, Jessica, Dad— he wasn't about to lose his brother.

"Can we take him off the vent?" Sam asked, turning back to the doctor. He nodded to Dean, gratitude obvious in the older man's eyes. Sam knew he had to keep Dean calm, but that was easier said than done.

"I would advise against it. He's still very weak."

"He's gonna keep fighting it until you take it out. It's gonna cause just as much trouble if you leave it in."

"You have a point. We'll begin weening him off of it, if he can stay awake and stay calm."

Sam nodded, "You hear that, Dean, you gotta be good."

Dean just rolled his eyes, but relaxed none the less. "Now, Sam, could you please excuse us, we need to check over your brother."

"No—."

"Will he be an good patient if you stay?" The doctor asked, eying Dean before turning his attention back to Sam. Sam stared at the doctor for a moment, there was something about him, something that had been bugging the young hunter since he woke up. Dr. Dark-Cloud seemed to know more than he should, but he also seemed more caring than dangerous.

"I'll go find Bobby." Sam squeezed Dean's arm reassuringly before leaving the room. Once in the hall he let the stress wash over him. They were beyond screwed. The storm had cut off access to the mountain town, no one was getting in or out, no matter the circumstances. The news was calling it the worst storm the small town had ever seen, and the state had declared it an emergency. But Sam knew all the officials' efforts would be in vein. This was supernatural in origin, and he and Dean had brought it down on everyone.

"Sam? Everything ok?" Sam turned, meeting Bobby's worried eyes.

"He's awake. The doctor's checking him over."

"And the bird?"

"Dean saw it, too. Whatever it is, it's not making any attempt to stay hidden."

"Why would it? What normal person would be worried about a bird."

"Yeah."

"So how is he really?"

"Weak and sick. He's fighting the vent, too, so they're gonna try to take him off it."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't either. But I know Dean, he won't be able to stay on that, he'd freak out. Hell he already freaked out."

"Your brother's strong, Sam, he'll pull through this. Maybe you should head back to your room, you're a mess."

"I'm fine."

"Sam."

"I'm fine. I need to be with Dean. I need to find out what's going on. Did you get anything?"

"You mean on my harrowing trek to the library? I didn't find too much else."

"But you found something?" Sam pressed, knowing the mechanic was hiding something from him.

"I don't know, Sam."

"Bobby, what is it?"

"You're not gonna like it."

"I already don't like it."

"We're one hundred percent sure it isn't a demon, wendigo, skin-walker or black dog."

"So spirit? Salt and burn in a freaking blizzard." Sam started pacing. This hunt was getting harder by the minute and with each second they waited Dean slipped further away.

"I didn't say spirit. It doesn't fit, Sam."

"How so?"

"The raven. You saw it at the cabin right before the storm, and now it and the storm are here."

"So what?"

"I think it's some kind of curse."

Sam's heart plummeted. He knew about curses, he'd learned about them the hard way. "Like Native American curse?"

Bobby looked down, the weight of the world on his shoulders, "yeah."

"Bobby, the only way to fight a curse is to get out of its way. I mean, we just waited out the bugs and ran."

"I know. It's old stuff, Sam, embedded in the land. You're right, you can't fight it. You just gotta get out of the way."

"And how are we supposed to get out of its way if it's following us?"

Bobby locked eyes with Sam before turing his gaze to the closed hospital room door. Sam shook his head, knowing exactly what Bobby was thinking. Whatever was happening with the mountain was something out of their league, and it was something that wanted Dean— and would stop at nothing to get him. But why?


	7. Chapter 7

_it's been forever, i know. life has been very, very busy. thank you all so much for the great reviews. I realized writing this chapter that i started this story last year during the historic snowstorms, and now the storms have started again- biggest blizzard yet was just a few days ago. maybe it'll give me inspiration ;)_

**THE EVERLASTING PEACE**

Chapter 7

Dean stared owlishly at the ceiling, taking shallow breaths as he forced himself to stay awake. He never thought something so simple could be so hard. All he had to do was breathe and keep his eyes open, but both feats had become nearly impossible. He couldn't remember ever being so tired, so drained. It was like every fiber of his being was calling out for rest, and all he wanted to do was give into it. But he had promised Sam, and he would never break that promise. So he stared at the ceiling, opening his eyes wide every time he thought he might drift off.

"Still awake?"

Dean turned toward his brother's voice, finding comfort in the familiar sound. Sam was sitting in the chair beside the bed, a book open on his lap. "Yeah." Dean answered, his voice barely more than a whisper. He'd been awake for most of the day, though to the blonde it felt like an eternity. "Find anything new?"

"Nothing." Sam answered absently, going back to his book.

Dean watched his brother for a few more minutes. All he wanted to do was let go. But that damn promise kept him hanging on. He knew it was childish, knew promises didn't mean the same when you grew up— but that didn't change anything. After all, Sam was still his little brother, and he always would be, no matter what happened.

Dean let out a shaky breath, turning his eyes back to the ceiling. No matter what, he would always look after Sammy. No matter what. He wanted to scream it, to make sure Dad heard him, wherever he was. No matter what happened Dean would always look after Sam, he would always keep him safe, he would always save him. _Or kill him_.

He shook his head, trying to silence his father's final words. Dean could never kill Sam, it wasn't an option— he would die first. Dean didn't care what the future held, he didn't care what fate had in store, he would never kill his brother. He didn't care if his brother ultimately turned evil, if Sam was destined to fulfill some horrible prophecy. He could never kill his own brother.

"And now you don't have to."

Dean blinked, turning his eyes to the voice, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the woman from his dreams. She was standing at the foot of his bed, and since Sam's nose was still in his book, Dean assumed only he could see her. "What?"

"Now you don't have to kill him. You can rest, you can leave the fear behind." The woman smiled, her voice soft against his ears. It was the first time Dean had gotten a clear look at her and she was breathtaking. Her skin was tanned, her long, dark hair framing her slight figure. She didn't look bad or dangerous. She looked— peaceful.

"I promised."

"Yes. You promised both your brother and your father. Which promise do you intend to keep?"

Dean closed his eyes, despair falling on him. He struggled to take a breath against the all consuming fear. Who's promise would he keep? Would he kill Sam, or would he watch over him forever, no matter what?

"How many more promises, Dean?" The woman asked, her dark eyes looking at him, through him. "You promised to look after Sammy, you promised to kill him if you could not save him, you promised to be strong for him, you promised to stay awake. You promised to cover for him when he snuck out, you have always promised— but how long do you intend to honor those impossible burdens. The innocent promises of youth are nothing compared to the heart wrenching ones of age."

"I can't—."

"Leave him? What about yourself? How many promises have people made to you only to break them? Why do you have to fight so hard when no one else does? Your journey is over. Now it's your time to rest."

Dean felt his eyes close. He wanted nothing more than to rest, to allow the comfort the woman spoke of to wash over him. He knew she and the raven were one in the same, and he knew he should be fighting her— but he was so tired. He could feel the darkness forming around him once more, but this time he found comfort in it. It was like a warm breeze, a soft touch, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into it.

Bobby was there, he could take care of Sam, he could look after him. They didn't really need him, Dean could see that now. Hell, maybe if he was gone Sam would finally give up hunting, would finally go back to the life he claimed he no longer wanted. After all, it was Dean who had drug Sam out of his perfect life, away from his dream, and it was he who was keeping the brunette from returning. If he was gone, then Sam would be free, and Dean knew Bobby would keep him safe.

"It's ok, Dean, you have fought hard enough. Even heroes are allowed to rest, even heroes are allowed to find peace."

"Sam—."

"Is safe. He is grown, Dean, he is no longer a little boy. He will understand. He knows how tired you are, how hurt you are. He would want you to find peace."

"Sam wants me to be happy." Dean forced his eyes open, sucking in a breath when he saw the raven sitting on his bed, the woman gone, though her voice still lingered. "He doesn't want me at peace."

"What is the difference?"

"Dean, are you ok?" Sam's voice broke through the haze, louder than Dean thought it should be. "Dean?"

"I'm here, Sammy." Dean answered, staring up at his brother's worried face, but he sounded different. He sounded further away than Sam did.

"Dean, wake up."

"I am." Dean's voice shook. He turned his attention back to the raven. "What have you done to me?"

"I will not leave you here. You need to come with me, Dean."

"No."

"You have no choice." The soft voice was gone, replaced by something sharp, terrifying. "You will not live through this, you will not wake again."

"I'm not leaving."

"Your spirit and your body are no longer the same. If you linger here, it will only hurt the ones you love." Dean followed the raven's gaze. The world outside the window was hidden in a white blanket of snow, ice and wind. The storm on the mountain had moved into town, and Dean knew no one would be able to fight it. This was old magic, something he didn't understand, but something he knew they never should have crossed.

Dean was torn. Was his life really so important? Did he have the right to put his own wants and needs in front of an entire city? He was beaten down and broken, both by the mountain and the burden of his father's final order. It wasn't fair, he always fought so hard.

"I promised." Dean breathed after a moment, his voice cracking. "I promised." His gaze went to Sam, his brother in another world. It was like watching a tv show. He could hear Sam calling his name, could see his brother running between the bed and the door, calling out for help, but he couldn't do anything for him. He couldn't speak to his little brother, couldn't comfort him, couldn't promise him everything would be alright. All he could do was watch, trapped within the mountain's curse.

66666666666666

Bobby paced the hall, his mind running a mile a minute. They were dealing with a curse, and he didn't know what to do. Native American curses and magic were old, older than many of the other things they had dealt with. They were a part of the land, a part of the very earth on which they stood, how could he fight that? Every instinct Bobby had told him to run, every instinct except one, that is. Dean. The blonde hunter was at the middle of all this, and running would be a death sentence to the boy. But then, where did that leave them?

Bobby had never heard of a hunter breaking a curse before. No, something like that required the same type of magic which had originally cast it, and most people with that skill normally refrained from using it. "Damn it." The mechanic cursed, punching the wall. How the hell could he have let this happen? He was the one who sent the boys on this hunt in the first place, and now it was going to get one of them killed.

He had a sudden urge to see the boys. He knew he should apologize for sending them on this hunt in the first place, a hunt which had already killed another friend of his. How could he have been so stupid. How could he have done this to the Winchesters, after everything else they'd been through. Bobby turned the corner, stopping in his tracks when he saw Dr. Dark-Cloud. The doctor was standing in the hall, staring out one of the large windows. At first glance it looked like he was watching the snow, but on closer inspection Bobby could see a raven on the other side of the glass.

The mechanic stepped back into the shadows, watching the doctor. The dark haired man was muttering something beneath his breath, staring the raven directly in the eyes— and the raven was staring back. Bobby couldn't believe it. This was the same bird that had been following the boys since the mountain, the same bird that had separated Dean from Sam back at the cabin, nearly killing them both. This bird was the key to the curse, and Dean's doctor was talking to it. After a few minutes the bird took flight, the window shaking as a strong gust of wind butted up against the building.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bobby stepped out from the shadows, his eyes murderous. The doctor knew what was going on, and he wasn't doing a thing to help Dean.

"Bobby—."

"You knew? You told Sam his brother was gonna die and you knew what the hell was happening."

"I'm doing the best I can. I told them— the whole god damn town— I told them all to stay off that mountain. No one listened. And then—."

"And then what?"

"They brought those boys here."

"So what, you wished they'd died up there."

"For the sake of the rest of us I should say yes— but I am doing everything in my power to keep Dean alive."

"Yeah right. Sam told me that bird was on the mountain when the storm started, and we've been seeing it at Dean's window since we got here."

"I know, it's tied to him. She won't rest until she brings Dean back to the mountain with her."

"And you're working with her?"

"No, I'm keeping her away. The spell keeps her power suppressed, but it'll only work for so long. I was hoping Dean would regain his strength. I was hoping I could save someone." The doctor bowed his head, taking a breath before turning back to the window. "I was hoping I could stop it."

"What is it? And who are you?"

"I'm a doctor at the hospital, like I said. But I'm also Abenaki. Generations ago my family was forced west, never resting, always being followed by the settlers. Eventually, my great, great grandfather and his family settled on this mountain. They were so tried of being afraid, of being chased away from any possibility of home, that, when settlers showed up at the base of the mountain, they fought back.

"They called upon a Pomola to guard their land. And it did, better than anyone ever thought. While the Abenaki in the area can still make a home of the mountain, no other man can."

"You said you told them, what are you talking about?"

"The resort. Up until recently the land was considered too rugged to build on, the cost out weighing the benefits. That was until a few years ago. Some mogul decided to build a resort on the mountain, that's when people started dying. The building is on hold, but that didn't stop the Pomola."

"Why is it after Dean?"

"He's a warrior. The Pomola takes all those who try to inhabit the mountain, but I believe it followed Dean here because it sees him as a threat."

"And you can stop it?"

"No. I asked my grandfather once. A little girl wandered up the mountain. Had she just come down before the sunset she would have been left alone, but she must have slept there. She was found frozen two weeks later. It was July. I knew the story of the Pomola and I asked my grandfather if we could ask it to leave, but he told me the mountain was the spirit's home, and no man could move her."

"There has to be some way, something we can do?"

"Anyone who inhabits the mountain, other than one of my people, dies on the mountain. The Pomola will see to it."

"But Dean isn't on the mountain."

"I know. That's why I thought just keeping it away until he gained his strength back would be enough. Unfortunately, the Pomola is stronger than I could have imagined."

"So what? You're just gonna sit back and watch Dean die?"

"You think I want this? This is my family's curse. The Pomola was called up out of fear and desperation, but times have changed. No one should have to die because of mistakes made generations ago."

"You're right. But that seems to be the way it happens with a lot of things."

"I take it you know more about the supernatural world than the average mechanic."

Bobby smiled a bit. It was good to have an ally, especially one who knew so much about the matter. He was about to answer the doctor when a commotion down the hall caught his attention.

"Help! Somebody help!" Bobby turned, his heart pounding when he heard Sam's voice.

"Sam?" Bobby turned the corner, blood rushing in his ears when he saw the look of panic in the young boy's eyes.

"Bobby, I can't wake him up. Something's wrong."

"Is he sleeping?" The doctor asked, pushing past Sam and into the room.

"No. It's different. It's like he's in a trance or something." Sam continued as Bobby followed him into the room.

The hunter sucked in a breath when he saw Dean. The blonde was staring up at the ceiling, completely still. His breathing was shallow, his heart rate fast. It was like the boy was in some kind of waking trance, his body there, but mind lost.

"Damn it," Dr. Dark-Cloud cursed, leaning over Dean. "Damn it."

"What?" Sam was standing at his brother's side, his hand resting on Dean's uninjured leg.

"She tricked me."

"She? You mean the raven? Bobby, what the hell is he talking about?"

"Calm down, he's on our side. It'll explain later. What do you mean she tricked you?"

"The raven at the window wasn't really her. The spell I was using, it stole my focus away. She slipped in."

"And did what?"

"Took your brother."


End file.
